Mutual Amelioration
by just-beginning
Summary: Wade Wilson is a highly-capable solo-act, but a little old Spidey friend isn't such a bad co-conspirator even if The Avengers do like to be nosey. He can trust her, and dat as looks good in lycra. For her part, Gwen Stacy can't convince Wade that her suit is not made of lycra - Tony Stark can do better than basic sportswear.
1. A Long Story

_This idea has been in the works for a while on-and-off, and I tried writing a few different partners (Theresa/Siryn being my second fave that I almost ran with) but this one got particularly stuck in my brain, especially after Into the Spider-verse. _

_Enjoy! Throw in a review for thoughts if that's your jam._

* * *

**_A Long Story._**

"Pretentious mother fuckers..."

"Sorry, Mr. Pool?"

Deadpool blinked, nearly unaware that he had spoken aloud. His careless facade quickly fell back into place, however.

"Never mind," he responded swiftly. "This is my stop. As always, Dopinder- it was a pleasure."

The cab driver nodded and was half-amused, half-disappointed when the red-and-black suited man held up his hand for a high-five. His typical form of payment. There was always something interesting - _and sometimes oddly rewarding_\- about transporting the absurd man, but surely a traditional tip wouldn't have hurt anyone, either.

"Enjoy your day, Mr. Pool!" Dopinder called out his window.

He had driven Deadpool up a long driveway towards a mansion that was pale against the growing dark of the evening. He had no idea what business the other man could be conducting there, but it was a different locale than he'd ever brought him to before - _less seedy, by far_.

"Will do," the mercenary sounded confident as he strolled toward the front door.

Not for the first time, Dopinder watched and wondered what his own ass would look like in tight leather before he drove away.

Wade heard the cab retreat back towards the road and heaved a deep breath before knocking on the front door. It was fair to say that this wasn't his favorite place to return to, but it was simply a means to an end.

Unfortunately, the scrapyard showdown with Francis had not been the last time he'd had to deal with self-righteous Colossus or his moody- _but admittedly more entertaining_\- trainee.

Negasonic Teenage Warhead.

_Still_ a bomb-ass name.

But they were relentless, always "checking in" to tempt him their way. They'd given him a wide berth for a while - _lots of sexy time with Vanessa after they'd reunited_\- **no, don't think about her!**\- but they had not forgotten to get back at it eventually.

He had, as Colossus always reminded him, promised to consider giving the X-Men a try if the two helped him take on Francis and Angel.

He had, as _he_ always retorted to Tin Man, not been specific about when he would make an effort towards that promise.

But now, over a year later, he wanted their help again. So, in a proactive move to gain their favor, he had come to peruse the home of the X-Nerds. He still was not enthused, but he was a man of his word so he'd always intended to come check out their digs some day.

It was just a complete coincidence that he was doing it now when it happened to benefit him in some way.

"Suuuch a coincidence," he sighed as he rocked on the balls of his feet while he waited on the front stoop.

Finally, the door slowly opened inward.

"Hiiii GI Jane," his voice was a bit overly-sweet.

"Hey, Loser," the gothy teenage warhead, conversely, sounded very bland.

"Oh, it's good to be home."

The door pulled open further, then. He suspected he would see Colossus's lumbering form but instead there was a tall, slender woman with dark skin and white hair.

"Does every girl in this school chop their hair- is it a requirement?" he gasped, hand over his heart. "Are you being indoctrinated?"

"No," she stopped chomping on her trademark gum just long enough to answer.

"Just blink twice, and I'll liberate you."

He got a blank glare.

"This is Storm- our headmistress."

"Nice," he exaggerated looking the woman up and down. "This is how all porn starts- run along, now, child."

"_Ew_."

"I'm sure Colossus will be grateful that you're working hard to prove what he sees in you," the headmistress's upper lip curled at his behavior.

She kept composure, through; she hardly even looked ruffled by the lewd first impression. He could respect that. Maybe one developed a thick skin for being shocked when you ran a school full of teenagers.

"Take that up with him," Deadpool waved her off. "I just want a behind the scenes look at Hogwarts."

"...do you understand this is a serious institution?" the woman glared at him.

Contrary to the peaceful evening that had surrounded them moments before, thunder suddenly rolled. Deadpool pivoted to gaze around, and he gave a low whistle at the instantly dense darkness and the lightening that suddenly flickered between them.

"_Storm_ _..._I get it. That's cute," he graded her and turned back to the two females. "Do I get to come in, now?"

Headmistress Storm seemed mildly perturbed that her show of power didn't awe him more, but it only showed on her face for a moment. Then she was stoic once more.

"So long as there are no tricks up your sleeves ...or anywhere else," she eyed him dubiously. "Safety is our priority."

"Yeah, I heard _nothing_ bad ever happens here..."

The girls couldn't see his face behind the mask, but the eye roll was evident in his tone and the expressions readable through the fabric.

"You'll be watched," Storm ignored his jab.

"He has made it!" a deep voice boomed from further inside before Colossus came into the foyer.

"I have a watch, so I can be on time," Deadpool proudly tugged at his glove to show off his Futurama watch.

"You're an idiot."

Negasonic's snark hardly even phased him.

"Play nice," the mercenary chided and decided to just go ahead and let himself in rather than wait, stepping over the threshold for the first time.

"It is good to see you here," Colossus's shiny face smiled.

"Yeah, I think I really set-off the decor," Deadpool was amicable as his head swiveled around to take-in every nook and cranny.

Lots of hardwood, deep earth tones, and plush furnishings.

"Always jokes," Colossus nodded knowingly. "Come along; let us see the place."

"We can do this like an episode of 'Cribs,' right? Because they always show _where the magic happens_!" Deadpool rotated his leather hips.

"Again: _ew_," the teen with them grimaced.

"This is a _school_, Deadpool- you must think before words come out of your mouth_," _Colossus made an attempted at educating him.

"Probably not gonna happen," Deadpool easily dismissed that scrap of advice.

"We will see."

"Fine, so where's the labs?" Deadpool rubbed his hands together eagerly. "And where do you keep that plane? I know you're not parking it in the library!"

"That is not important today."

"Oh, shove a dick in it," he complained loudly. "It's the _most_ important part."

"Language," Colossus scowled. "And our training facilities are only for X-Men."

"And you want me to join, don't you? You should wine and dine me- _show off a little_!"

"You are being a child," the metallic man pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Show. Me. The money!" the Merc cheered.

He may not have been 100% serious about shacking up with Team Boy Scout, but he'd be a moron if he weren't interested in what these geeks had locked away. He'd be damned if his tour wasn't going to be a full one.

Storm opened her mouth _-probably to tell him to keep it down for the X-Babies who were studying_\- but the thick front door opened again behind them. That admittedly had Wade reaching for a gun because it didn't seem like anyone was expecting a guest to sneak up on them, but he stopped when he saw the white and black clad woman now framed in the doorway.

"Whaaaat!" he was absolutely elated. "You know SpiderWoman? Get the fuck out! You _are_ making the hard sell, aren't you?"

The other masked figure froze, eyes on him, but then shook her head and took a few steps in.

"Storm," she nodded respectfully towards the white-haired woman. "I found someone who knows you…"

She turned to reveal a young girl clinging to her back. She'd huddled in so tightly against the woman that she had nearly succeeded in being unnoticeable.

Storm gasped, her composure slipping more than Wade had been able to get it to.

**_Ooookay, show off. _**

"Megan," the woman breathed and moved forward, arms out.

The little girl practically launched herself from SpiderWoman's back and into the teacher's arms. Storm caught her easily into a hug and looked her over as best she could.

Wade did, too, but mostly just at the flimsy, phosphorescent pink wings fluttering from the slits in her jacket.

**_Alright, alright, so mutants here were pretty cool_**.

"I didn't know where to find you," the girl started crying.

"I know, I know … ...let me get you down to Hank. We'll make sure you're alright," she was cooing at the too-skinny girl. "Thank you," she spared one hand to squeeze Spider Woman's elbow.

"Always your friendly neighborhood Spider Woman," the shorter lady saluted loosely. "I'll still keep an eye our for anyone else."

Storm nodded solemnly and made to leave before seeming to remember Wade. She glared silently and ticked an arm noticeably tighter around her current charge. As if he was going to go after the kid.

**_Really rolling out that welcome mat ... _**

"Keep an eye on him," she looked to Colossus. "He's your responsibility."

And with that, she swept away.

"Lost student? Not good for PR, am I right?" Wade filled the resulting silence.

Spider Woman's chin ticked in his direction again.

"A morlock," Colossus corrected.

"A who's-it-whats-it, now?"

_"Wade?!" _Spider Woman spoke up again, loudly this time.

He twisted in her direction again so fast his neck nearly cricked. **_Who the blazes…_**

"That's my name, don't wear it out or sell it to the news stations…" he quipped to buy time.

His eyes roved Spider Woman for a clue, but there was nothing more than usual to see. Because he had definitely seen her, of course -_ on the news and, occasionally, from the street_. He had fully considered making contact just for shits, but he hadn't gone for it yet since she was a bit highflying to easily track down and there wasn't a ton of motivation.

_Yet_

"Holy shit..."

A white-clad hand reached up to strip her hood and mask away. Her hair was shorter than he remembered, and she'd aged up a bit, but…

"Gwen Stacy!? Holy hell is right!"

"Shit, actually," Negasonic couldn't stop herself from correcting him. "She said shit."

"Enough you," Wade snapped his fingers in her general direction.

"...I thought you were dead," Gwen shook her head slowly.

"Pfff, who said?"

"Only everyone," she pushed at his chest.

"Oh, then you're very behind, Princess..."

"But h-"

"Wait, wait," Colossus stepped forward to interrupt. "How do you two know each other?"

* * *

**_Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls_**

**_6 years, 9 months, 1 week, 4 days, 11 hours, 25 minutes, and 36 seconds ago_**

_Whoever Sister Margaret had been was probably sorely disappointed in her namesake, but Gwen Stacy liked the place well enough._

_The thick metal door next to the name plaque lead weren't locked or manned- it never had been in her memory. Anyone who hadn't belonged there would have figure it out pretty damn quick...or at least would have been quickly educated. _

_The blonde let herself in quietly and moved through the dark, narrow hallway and into the spacious bar area full of patrons. Most were mercenaries; others were members of other nefarious professions. Still, within those walls, everyone generally left each other well enough alone ...generally._

_"Hey, G!" Weasel, the scraggly bartender, greeted her happily enough when she drew near. _

_"Still not a good nickname," Gwen rolled her eyes and fished a thin, gold card from the back of her jeans to toss at him. "Hey, Wade."_

_Wade Wilson was, as usual, seated at the bar with his friend. _

_"Stacy," he tilted his beer toward her. _

_Gwen took a seat at the stool beside him._

_"What was the job?_

_"Pervy stalker"_

_"Ah. Cute'_

_"Jack and Coke?" Weasel checked, looking over her job card before filing it away. _

_He didn't need to know she was underage. Actually, maybe he did know and just didn't care. Either way, her dad would flip his shit about this. She did it anyway/_

_"Yup."_

_"Clean job? Because Knight complained long and loud to the cops before coming to us- she doesn't want him dead and linked to her..."_

_"I know, I know - he's fine. He got the picture," Gwen promised. _

_"From a little thing like you?" Wade gasped. "You're amazing."_

_Gwen flipped him the bird. She wasn't the only powered-up person pulling jobs there, but it was the kind of abnormality that was rarely addressed directly. _

_But then, of course, there was Wade who liked to say whatever he pleased and tried to nudge issues straight out into the open. _

_"Sure am; you wanna see for yourself?" she warned him. _

_"Don't tempt me with a good time" Wade seemed unconcerned and easily rebounded. "Could be a good time. You're on the right side of jailbait..." _

_"Stop sniffing each others asses," Weasel slid a glass to the girl and eyed his friend dubiously. _

_"But that's how I make friends," Wade threw on a theatrical pout. "How else will I know if she's worthy?"_

_"Worthy? Oh boy," Gwen's eyes rolled high in their sockets as she snatched up her drink- she was probably going to need it at this point._

_"Yes, I have to decide I really like you because I'll devote a lot into a true friend ...time, sexual favors, willingness to murder, help you re-tile your kitchen, or install your sex swing..."_

_"Damn. Already installed that," she snapped her fingers in faux-regret. _

_"Well, then, I'll help when you upgrade," he reasoned. _

_"Why would I ever do that?"_

_"Hooks creak, straps wear ...that is, if you're doing it right," Wade's face broke into a smirk. _

_A dare to balk. _

_"Oh and you think you can be the judge of that?" Gwen snorted._

_"I am uniquely qualified, yes," he told her with confidence. _

_"He's a sex swing model," Weasel intervened with a huff. _

_"It's how I made my first million," Wade was very matter-of-fact about this idea._

_"Millions? And you dress like that?" Gwen glanced over his faded jacket and vintage t-shirt. _

_"Girl, don't you just wanna have fun?" Wade's face fell slack in feigned shock as he yanked his coat open proudly to flash a full view of his Cyndi Lauper shirt. _

_Gwen laughed. _

_"If that's your era, then I think I prefer Pat Benetar."_

_"You would!"_

_Gwen frowned thoughtfully for a moment. _

_"I'm not even sure what that means..."_

_"You wouldn't," Wade just scoffed again. _

_"...you won't stop, will you?" Gwen asked but looked to Weasel instead of Wade- he seemed to understand himself dismissed for the moment and polished off the end of his beer rather than answer. _

_"Nope," Weasel was nodding. "Not until you forget your original point- he can go in that circle all night."_

_"As if there's something wrong with stamina," Wade shrugged as he involved himself again _

_Gwen couldn't help grinning. _

_Wade had a reputation- and a well-earned one- for being an asshole, but he was also fun. Dangerous and sometimes eccentric, sure, but also a fairly descent guy ...relatively speaking, of course, if you considered general company._

_"Weasel must not know much about that."_

_Wade had some stale pretzels in his mouth at that point, but he was happy to chuckle at his friend's expense. _

_"Fuck you," the other man was not as impressed. _

_"Shut up and pay me."_

_"You hook, now?"_

_"I'll beat your ass with one hand tied behind my back," the female mercenary rolled her blue eyes. "But pay me, first," she held her palm out for the cash from her job. _

_"Insult me and use me," Weasel muttered. _

_"Guess _**_you_**_ might be the hooker," Wade airily reasoned._

_"Weren't we friends once?" Weasel checked before he turned for the safe. _

_"Oh, total BFFs," the broader man promised. "...we hurt his feelings," he then mock-whispered to Gwen _

_"Fuck off!" Weasel demanded over his shoulder without even looking. _

_"Aw, sad," the blonde mused. _

_"I didn't know you were like him," Weasel grumbled when he came back to the bar and handed over a clipped pile of bills. _

_"One of us! One of us!" Wade began chanting quietly while he picked through the bowl of pretzels to find the saltiest ones. _

_Gwen laughed openly. _

_"I have my moments, Weez."_

_Wade gasped and slowly looked up. _

_"Weez ...Wheezy...Lil Wayne."_

_"No."_

_"It's a new nickname."_

_"No."_

_"It'll stick."_

_"I said: no."_

_"Good luck with that one," Gwen snorted and pushed herself off of her stool. "I'm gonna catch Jean-Paul before I go..."_

_She pocketed her payday and, drink in one hand, she patted Wade on the shoulder to stroll away. _

_"Later."_

_"See ya," Weasel returned dully._

_"Uh-huh ...let me know when you need a hand with that sex swing!" Wade bid her farewell more loudly than necessary._

_Gwen's head tilted back in a laugh but she otherwise only flashed a thumbs-up._

* * *

**_Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls_**

**_6 years, 6 months, 1 week, 3 days, 13 hours, 6 min, and 49 seconds ago_**

_Mindless of spilled puddles of drinks, food crumbs, or questionable sticky residue, Gwen leaned between Wade and a man she didn't even know to slap a gold card onto the wooden bar top of Sister Margaret's. _

_She was usually happier to be there. _

_"Already?!" Weasel laughed happily. _

_"No. I'm returning it," the blonde snapped. _

_"Party foul! Boooo!" Wade heckled. _

_Gwen ignored him- seriously, was he _**_always_**_ here in this same seat at the bar?_

_"What? Why?" Weasel reached for the card and tilted the face of it up to reassure himself on what the job had been. _

_"Do you mind?" the man with a graying goatee beside her growled and nudged her rudely. _

_She still had a shoulder pushed between he and Wade, and the man was apparently taking exception. Without hesitation, Gwen grabbed the elbow that had dared tried to push at her, and she cranked it into an awkward angle. The man gave an ineffectual yelp and Weasel's eyes widened. _

_Even Wade straightened up some, though he was smirking. _

_"I'm sorry; am I in your way?" she glared at him. _

_"Nope," his answer came swift and unabashed. _

_She released him with a brief huff. He did glare at her but didn't seem to have the nerve to open his mouth before he stalked away._

_"This job's right up your alley, Stacy," Weasel spoke again, though more cautiously than before - he wasn't exactly known for being ballsy and wasn't willing to bait a mutant, or whatever she was._

_"No, this guy hiring -Brewer? He is a mess. I'm not doing it."_

_"Aw, Jesus- why are you vetting the wallet?" Weasel complained. _

_It wasn't as if every person hiring a mercenary had squeaky-clean hands- that was no secret_

_"I always do."_

_"Fucking great."_

_"The mark is a competitor of this guy," Gwen slapped the name card still on the bar's surface. "That make's him just as bad in my book. I'm not doing it."_

_"Aw, c'mon..."_

_"Not. Doing. It."_

_"Returning a job's bad form," Weasel continued to whine._

_"I'm not helping someone who's into sex trafficking," Gwen leaned over the bar to hiss at its tender. _

_It was somewhat hypocritical to do shady things for certain people and not others, but Gwen had some lines. She worked within the box those lines made- rarely stepping foot beyond the boundaries- in order to look at herself levelly in the mirror. _

_"But you'll be taking another one off the streets," Weasel tempted, smiling. _

_As if she hadn't thought of that._

_"Someone else will do it."_

**_That_**_ was certainly always true Plenty of people didn't have qualms about what jobs they took. Someone did the paying, and then they did the doing -any following ramifications were someone else's issue. _

_Fair enough. Gwen just couldn't quite get to that point herself. _

_"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?"_

_"Fuck you," she spat and finally shoved herself off the wooden bar._

_Wade had been politely- not to mention _**_surprisingly_**_ \- quiet for most of the exchange. He watched Gwen go, her long blonde hair swaying, and did some quick figuring. Nodding to himself, he snatched the abandoned Gold Card off the bar and slipped away after her. _

_"Hey, Stacy!"_

_She was already out on the sidewalk and heading toward the corner when he came to the mouth of the alley. At his yell, she only glanced around._

_"Go away, Wilson."_

_"Gwendolyn Maxine, hold up," he ordered and half-jogged, half-shuffled to catch her. _

_She did stop at that._

_"How do you know my middle name?" she scowled. _

_"I'm not all brawn- I know things," his responding smile was proud._

_"Sure," she merely muttered and proceeded again. _

_Now Wade could easily fall into step._

_"So ...how are you tonight?"_

_His tone was light and silly, but some miniature part of her was struck that it was touching he was asking in the first place._

_"Peachy"_

_"C'mon, Gwenny," he grumbled. _

_She froze on the sidewalk. _

_"Don't call me that," she pointed a finger straight into his face._

_Wade was more known for crossing boundaries than respecting them, but something about the filthy look she was giving him made him think she was going to crank _**_his_**_ arm out of its socket like she'd nearly done to the man up at the bar earlier. _

_"Okay," he nodded slowly, then swiftly met her pace when she started walking again. _

_"Go on, tell Uncle Wade what's wrong..." _

_"...I'm pissed off."_

_"No!?" his gasp was mocking._

_Gwen gave him a look._

_"The job'll get done," he told her steadily. _

_Yes, a little drop in the ocean._

_"Yeah ...doesn't really make a big difference, though, does it?"_

_"Whoa, okay...so we're being existential tonight. Alright," Wade sighed and glanced up at the darkening sky to think. "...everything will matter when you least expect it if you trust your natural charm."_

_"Oh yeah? Who's that- Confucious?" Gwen rose an eyebrow that she tried to tell herself was not amused._

_"A bastardization of my last two fortune cookies," Wade admitted. "Golden Wok always gives extra."_

_Gwen clung to this chance to talk about the irrelevant._

_"You gotta go with Bankok Kitchen- no bonus fortune cookies but the best Seshuan Chicken."_

_"But ...cookies," he pouted. _

_"You do have a point"_

_"A smile!" Wade cheered when she chuckled, and he punched the air in triumph. "I win."_

_Gwen schooled her face quickly to hush him up._

_"You sure you're alright?"_

_She glanced at him. The question seemed sincere enough, his usual teasing lilt on pause for now._

_"...I'll be fine."_

_"Good. Wanna play Skeeball?"_

_Gwen blinked._

_"All hail to the King of the Non Sequitur..."_

_"Bow before me!" Wade hooked her arm in his to take over the direction of their walk. _

_Soon enough, they were, in fact, at an arcade. _

_"So ... ...you're cheering me up by kicking my ass?" Gwen scowled, head cocked. _

_They stood at a bank of skeeball machines, and his machine had been rolling out a steady stream of tickets for about ten minutes while hers merely spit a few here and there. _

_"I never said I was cheering you up," he smoothly denied. "This is all about me."_

_"I noticed..."_

_But Gwen wasn't actually mad; she was having fun. Still, Skeeball was not her friend so she moved on to explore. _

_"Hey! Wait up, come b- shiiit," Wade plucked up his last two balls to chuck before following with a handful of ticket ropes. "It's not my fault you young-uns don't know the classics and just play with your gameboys and your Wii or what the fuck ever..."_

_"I know some of the classics..."_

_"Oooo, PacMan- exciting," Wade rolled his dark eyes and leant against the machine Gwen chose to insert money into next._

_"So go back to playing with your balls," Gwen winked. _

_"May favorite past time," Wade accepted the double entendre without a care. "But I've been informed I'm being rude."_

_"I didn't say 'rude'."_

_Gwen clarified without looking away from the game, which she was getting a little intense into, leaning and jabbing the joystick. Wade grinned. _

_"Shut up."_

_They both fell quiet until Gwen's lives were up and Wade could drag her to a Street Figther II game... .._

_"Shit!" she slapped her hand on the console after she lost ...again._

_"Oh, so you are trying?" Wade teased._

_"You're a pain ...how often are you practicing here?" she inquired, nudging him with her elbow._

_This had the added bonus of edging him away from the game. He seemed to know what she was playing at but went along anyway, for which she was grateful- continuous losing was no help to the ego._

_"Ah, just now and then," he shrugged. "Oooo..." _

_He quickly shooed her to a shooting gallery game._

_"Yeah right," Gwen scowled. _

_She knew him well enough to know he had a military background, and she personally knew the strict basics when it came to guns; she wasn't practiced._

_"You're so competitive, Stacy," he dismissed her annoyance and fed in money for himself. _

_Gwen watched him with a waning feeling of annoyance. It was hard to be upset with him when he'd come out of the way to work on cheering her up ...which was quiet a success, really. She was distracted and in less of a dark mood than she had been at Sister Margaret's..._

_She scowled at the thought._

_Focusing on Wade lifted her again, though. His face was set, eyes narrowed just slightly at the targets on screen before him, and his tongue was peeking between his lips. She grinned some. _

_"Woo! High score," Wade was shameless in throwing up gleeful arms to celebrate. _

_"Seriously?" Gwen's eyes popped. _

_She had not been paying much attention to his actual progress on screen. _

_"Shit yeah."_

_She watched him enter "ASSFACE" as his name for the leader board. "DICKWAD" was down the list, so she had a feeling he'd had success on this game before. She didn't ask, though, least it give him a chance to gloat. _

_"C'mon, c'mon, get in on this, Blondie."_

_Wade shoved more money into the slot and held out a beckoning arm. He hardly waited and grabbed her arm to tug her close to him in front of the game and pressed the gun to her hand. _

_"So, what, is this your move?" Gwen grinned once he swiftly made himself at home behind her. _

_"Oh yeah," he murmured into her ear. "I just slip it in right here- right in front of everyone."_

_Gwen elbowed him in the gut. _

_"Ooo- rough. You're not dissuading me, you know," he chortled. _

_"Ugh, jeeze..."_

_Annoyed, Gwen made to set aside the gun that had been pressed into her palms. _

_"No, no, no- come on," Wade tightened his arms around her and squared her up to the screen. _

_She actually had to put in very little work as he mirrored her arms and moved her quickly from target to target. _

_"Well, not a high score, but at least you didn't suck at something," Wade congratulated when the round was up._

_"Thanks ...sort of."_

_"What can I say," he slung an arm around her shoulders to continue to peruse the arcade. "I'm a gentleman."_

_"Something like that," she laughed along. "Thanks for tonight, though ...I'm serious."_

_He nodded slowly, letting the mood somber up marginally. _

_"It's nothing - some jobs get weird. I get that."_

_He usually dealt with this by giving someone an even worse ass-beating rather than walking away, but to each their own. _

_"It's not nothing. I owe you one."_

_"Alright, Princess. When I need a pick me up, you're my call," Wade agreed- it usually wasn't bad to have someone owing you a favor._

_"Good. I should be," she nodded and went ahead and leaned against his side and hooked her thumb in the loop of his jeans. "You're a good guy."_

_"No I'm not."_

_"...you're a pretty good guy."_

_"Eh..."_

_Gwen scoffed. _

_"You're an alright guy, and I'm not going any lower than that."_

_"Fine, but don't spread it around," he conceded. _

_"Wouldn't want anyone at Margaret's thinking you have a soul, right?"_

_"Exactly ...but I wouldn't do this for Weasel, anyway, so no one would believe you," Wade mused. _

_"You don't bring him to your arcade?"_

_"No ...but I'm glad you think of it as mine," he puffed out his chest importantly._

_"... ...so how come you brought me?_

_"What's with looking the gift horse in the mouth?" he tutted. _

_Gwen nudged him to continue. _

_"What?" You just looked sad - I have soft spots, too, you know," he feigned whining. _

_"Well ...thanks again."_

_"Plus ...you're on the young side, but you're also pretty hot,_ _Stacy - I'm probably not getting laid tonight, though, huh?" he put on a pout. _

_"Nah, sorry," Gwen smiled. "Tempting, though. This was an adorable date," she winked. _

_"Okay ...so Blondie doesn't fool around on the first date. Noted."_

_She elbowed him just to keep up a facade of annoyance, and they soon went their own separate ways- Gwen with a ghost of a smile lingering on her face_

* * *

**_Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls_**

**_6 years, 5 months, 1 day, 12 hours, 4 minutes, and 2 seconds ago_**

_"You're in my seat, Stacy," Wade griped when he strolled through Sister Margaret's and saw the blonde woman in his favorite stool at the bar. _

_"I know- I was waiting for you."_

_"Wow. Stalk much," he scoffed at her but took no real issue with climbing onto the stool beside her. _

_"Only on special occasions."_

_Gwen spoke this off-hand, shrugging casually even though she already confessed to Wade that she was waiting on him. Surely he had not missed this, but he shrugged similarly and waved over a drink. _

_"I know what you did," she supplied once he had a beer in hand._

_"Ohoho, mama," Wade chortled. "You're going to have to be a lot more specific," he paused to take a drink. "I do a lot of things."_

_Still smiling pleasantly, Gwen picked up the sheet of paper in front of her and slid it in front of him. Wade obligingly took a peek and saw it was a news article printed from the internet. _

_"Not supporting print media, I see," he quipped and let his eyes fly over the sheet. _

**_Alleged Murderer implicated in Sex Trafficking_**

_"Sounds naughty," Wade assessed. _

_"Funny how the same guy who put in a job order to take down Royce Donovan's prostitution network got picked up his murder..."_

_"I guess he must have gotten impatient after you turned it down," Wade took more interest than necessary in his beer bottle._

_"I know you picked up that job, Wilson. Bar wench over there already confirmed it,"_ _she gestured to Weasel. _

_"Damn, is nothing sacred," Wade set his drink down a little heavily. "You're dead to me!" he called off to the shaggy-haired man. _

_Weasel did look up but dismissed the pair of them with a roll of his eyes._

_"Why didn't you tell me?" _

_"Tell me about your hopes and dreams," Wade cooed mockingly. "C'mon, Blondie ...you don't tell me about all your work either. Untwist your panties - better yet, let me help." he leered, then. _

_Gwen scoffed at his attempt to change the subject. She was going to stay on track. _

_"Well, I'm glad you did it."_

_As Weasel neared them, she ordered two shots of whiskey, clapping Wade on the back. _

_"I'll pick up your tab tonight."_

_"...any chance you want to pick up my whole standing tab?" the other mercenary attempted. "Because I haven't paid that in a looooong time..."_

_"Don't ruin it by being greedy," Gwen rolled her eyes high. _

_Weasel soon had beers and shots in front of them._

_"Fine fine ...and you're a fucking fink," Wade accused the proprietor._

_"Would you stop whining and drink that?" Gwen snapped before downing her own shot. _

_Not to be outdone, Wade shut up and followed suit. _

_"Thaaaaat's the ticket..."_

_Weasel provided each of them with a fresh beer and wandered off to tend to one of the scantily-clad barmaids who'd approached the speed-bar with an order. _

_"So, out with it -why didn't you say anything?" Gwen kicked at Wade's leg. _

_He must have known it would mean a lot to her after the way she'd complained at Weasel. Gwen wasn't so conceited as to think that was precisely why he'd taken the job- a payday was big motivation- but she was sure it was why he'd executed the job the way he'd done it. He'd taken out the head of one trafficking network and left a trail that blamed it on another gang doing the same sort of shit. That took extra efforts, and she could not think of another reason to do that except that he had heard her opinion on the job._

_"Because I didn't want you to get all sappy- it makes me embarrassed for you," Wade quipped in a pacifying sort of way like one might talk to a child. _

_"C'mon"_

_It was fortuitous that her evening was free- she had nowhere to go and nobody to go see, so she could run his circles. _

_He openly scoffed. _

_"It just..." he chocked on his words, scoffed again for show, and shrugged himself back together. "I don't like sex traffickers either, yeah? I'm pro-consensual sex- you don't have a moral monopoly on that, G."_

_Gwen practically beamed. _

_"Well, if I've ever called you stupid, I was wrong- I take it back."_

_"You've been name-calling, Stacy? That's cold."_

_"You could've asked for help."_

_"So now I'm selfish, too," he continued to gripe. _

_"Would you shut it?" Gwen had to laugh a little. "I'm just saying..."_

_Wade briefly paused in his deflection and default banter to watch her take a deep swig of beer. A smile was still dancing around her eyes, which made him grin a little, too. _

_"I figured you didn't want to be anywhere near it, so..." he trailed off to leave it at that. _

_The blonde girl nodded slowly to acknowledge his momentary cease-fire._

_"...my automatic reaction was to be mad. I didn't even think about getting backhanded with the job," she was a little sorry to admit. _

_"Well," Wade sighed thoughtfully. "I'm smarter than you. No shame in that..."_

_That got an eye roll, too, though it was a miniature version of one. _

_"It was pretty good of you, ya know..."_

_"Aagh, -no. Yuck," Wade pulled a face and tried to verbally distance himself from her renewed assertions that he was similar to a descent human being._

_"Alright, alright ...it's true, but I won't talk about it."_

_"Well, sure, that's the American way, right?" Wade agreed with her logic. _

_Gwen smiled and decided to go ahead and abandon the topic for the moment. He'd done what he'd done, and they both knew it- they could let it quietly sit between them for a while. _

_Or they could just drink and not bother thinking about it in the slightest. _

_Which was what they did. _

_Happily._

_"...who you got in the Dead Pool, anyway?" Wade asked when they got into some bar gossip. _

_He craned back in his seat to look up at the chalk board._

_"I don't place bets on it," Gwen informed him after a swig of her beer. "A little too morbid."_

_"Aw, where's your sense of adventure? Besides, people bet on you," he twisted a finger up to indicate the sign once again. _

_"I know -people tend to underestimate a girl. Plus, a lot of people think I'm a mutant, and some people would kind of approve of a dead mutant," she added darkly._

_"Oooo, neither confirming nor denying, huh? That's the first time I've ever actually heard you say The M Word," Wade observed "Yo, Wheez! Two Blow Job shots!" Wade shouted as distraction in case she regretted what she'd said. _

_"No!" Weasel spat. "Nope, no more- you cause too many messes with those."_

_"Not for a prank, you fuckwad- for us!" Wade waved between himself and his blonde friend. "Gwen, will you accept a blowjob from me? I promise to be gentle," he batted his eyes at her. _

_"Sounds lovely," Gwen tried to match his prim tone but ruined it with a laugh._

_"You heard the lady. Public blowies all around."_

_Grumbling, Weasel obligingly poured the simple drinks and slid them to the two patrons. _

_Gwen raised her glass to Wade._

_"I hope it's the best you've ever had," she told him with a blank face before they threw back their shots._

_"You dream big," Wade patted her thigh. "I like that about you."_

_Gwen rose her brow at his wide hand on her leg. It might've been from drinking, but she thought spot sort of ...tingled? She certainly didn't feel any trepidation. Interesting._

_"Problem?" Wade dared her._

_"...not yet."_

_"Noted," he smirked, finally letting his hand slip away. "Theoretically, what would constitute the beginning of a problem?"_

_"... ... I'll let you know."_

_Gwen studied him for a few moments. She understood what was being asked, and the question ...did not make her immediately angry. She didn't want to leave or scoff at him for being a perv. Wade was Wade. An asshole, but one of the honorable ones even when he didn't want to be. _

_A ...friend. _

_Were they friends? _

_She wasn't exactly sure about that title since Wade worked so very hard to keep people at arm's length. Still, he wasn't just some guy who happened to have the same job as her. He was ...Wade._ _Dangerous and yet somehow incredibly safe to her at the same time._

_And it certainly wasn't as though he was hard to look at. On that contrary, he stood out in a bar where a majority of the men were fairly haggard. _

_"Get out of your head, Blondie" Wade chortled. _

_Gwen hummed in amusement and finished off her beer. _

_"Be right back."_

_She slid off of her stool with a soft sigh and made her way to the women's restroom. It was a dingy bathroom- no lavish provisions, for sure- but cleaner than one might suspect in this place. _

_Someone joined her by the time she was washing her hands, and she was surprised to look up and find that it was Wade letting himself in. _

_"Wilson?" _

_"Problem?" he whispered and rose a cocky eyebrow._

_"I just didn't know you had to sit to pee," she returned with a cockiness that didn't quite fit the nerves that suddenly fluttered through her chest. _

_"Well everyone needs to rest sometime," he shrugged. _

_The way he moved forward towards her could only be described as prowling. _

_"And you didn't answer me," he reminded her. "This a problem?" _

_"...not yet."_

_"Did you know you're hard to read sometimes, Blondie?" he murmured as he approached and jointed her in front of the sink. _

_"That's usually a good thing around here," Gwen answered truthfully._

_Sister Margaret's wasn't really the place for openness and vulnerability._

_ "But I'm no harm; I just want to know how you feel about sex on the second date; we already know how you feel about shacking up on the first."_

_"We're calling this a date?"_

_"Well yeeeeah. Drinks and getting to know each other is a classic date. I don't mind that you paid - I embrace the 21st century," he nodded proudly._

_"Well, I do love a modern man..."_

_"Whoa, love - I'm not quite there yet. Let's give it time, yeah?" he smirked, sidling closer. "It's been a nice night, though..."_

_"Agreed."_

_He nodded slowly, but then his arm moved quickly to catch one of his fingers into the belt loop of her pants. _

_"Problem?" he checked after yanking her flush to him. _

_Her hands flew to his shoulders, but it seemed to be in reflex only since she didn't shove him away. Given that, he was sure he knew the answer to his own question, but he'd wait to hear it._

_"... ...no, not yet."_

_"Oh, that's good," he purred._

_And then they were kissing. _

_It was not tentative or searching. It was hard, and Wade wasn't interested in there being a sliver of space between them. He planted his hands firmly on the counter behind Gwen, boxing her in tightly. _

_Problem?" he leaned back just enough to ask, his lips brushing hers as she spoke. _

_"...nah," she uttered back and looped her arms around his broad shoulders to pull him back again. _

_He was grabby, which wasn't so surprising since he was playful and intense in nearly every facet of his behavior. Gwen found she didn't mind; she scraped her nails sharply into the back of his neck when his grip on her hip became nearly bruising. _

_"Ohhh, she plays," Wade growled. "Daddy likes..."_

_"Daddy?" Gwen paused, brow arched. _

_"Yeah, say it again," Wade smirked. _

_Gwen's nose wrinkled distastefully. _

_"No role playing for you? Spoil sport," Wade pouted. _

_As attractive as he was, the look was ridiculous on him. _

_"So ...you want to have such good sex with me that I become your daughter? That's the fantasy here?"_

_"Well it just sounds silly when you put it like that ... ...wait, you do want to have sex?!"_

_ Gwen knew full well that he was jesting. She was not being presumptuous; sex was exactly where this was heading, especially if the swelling bulge just north of her belly button -and slightly to the left- was proper evidence to go by._

_Still, she flushed. _

_"Oh, well ...maybe not..."_

_She ignored her uneven breath and shrugged as if to casually move away. _

_"No, no, no, no," Wade laughed, trapping her again against the counter. _

_"Ass," Gwen grumbled when she was thoroughly stuck. _

_"Feel free to grab it."_

_His mouth moved from hers his leg moved between her thighs. Before Gwen even realized it, she was rocking lightly with him. It felt damn near perfect. Pleasurable enough that she was only a little chagrined when he chuckled a little and muttered something about her being eager._

_"Happy birthday to me," he sing-songed before stooping enough to grab under the swell of her ass and lift her up._

_Gwen was momentarily distracted by those words.. _

_"It's your birthday?" she breathed._

_She hitched hear arms more snug around his neck when he turned away from the counter._

_"I'm gonna pretend," he waggled his eyebrow and walked them into one of the stalls opposite where they'd just been standing. _

_Once they were in, his hand fumbled blindly towards the lock. _

_"So," he started conversational when he had to lean away from her to get the lock to slid into its slot. "You're not just doing this just because you think I'm some good guy now, right?"_

_"Seriously?" Gwen griped- he was going to go and question it?_

_"Well, I just want to know if you're going to expect love letters and good-night texts..."_

_"Shut. Up," Gwen growled and fisted her hand into his hair to give the short locks a sharp tug._

_"Alright, alright," Wade grinned and dropped her unceremoniously to her feet. "...shirt or pants..." he wondered aloud to himself as he gazed down at her. "There's always a best way to unwrap a gift..."_

_Gwen smacked his chest lightly and started undoing his jeans. She hoped that would help him make his decision a little more quickly- if he took his sweet time and the excitement began to wane, she might just go ahead and question the brilliance of sex in a public restroom._

_He practically giggled and his hands shot for the button and zipper of her pants, too. _

_Of course, a decision didn't have to be brilliant to be fun... ... ..._

_"Mmmm ...you taste pretty good, Stacy," Wade smirked. _

_Gwen absolutely flushed, merely blinking as she watched him lower his hand from his mouth. She wasn't sure why watching him lick herself off of his fingers was hot instead of lewd, but the attention of his hand between her legs had felt too divine to care. _

_"Problem?" he sighed, digging his hands through her long hair to tug and tilt her face up to him. _

_"We're good," she promised and stretched up for a kiss, which he leaned a fraction back from. _

_"Good ...good, you gotta safe word?" _

_Gwen frowned. What was he planning that they needed a safe word? _

_"Just good practice to have one," he ticked a shoulder. "Ours is kumquat, then, alright?" _

_He swooped in to kiss her before she had a chance to laugh, and then he grunted as he gathered her into his thick arms a second time. She locked her legs around him without being told. _

_Shortly, they both groaned as he guided them to fit together where he held her against the wall. _

_And then they didn't talk for a while. There were a few laughs, some grunting, and definitely a lot of moaning ...but full sentences had to momentarily take a back seat._

_Until the wooden door to the room swung open to bang off of the wall. Gwen's eyes flew open and she clenched her hands on Wade's shoulders, and he briefly froze. There was shock in the look they shared, and then Wade snorted; Gwen threw a hand over his mouth to shush him. _

_Whoever had wandered into the restroom to unwittingly join them didn't seem to pay any mind, simply going about their business. Wade bit at her fingers while they waited, prompting Gwen to grab and tug at his hair again. He let his eyes roll back as if in ecstasy and pressed his hips forward slightly where he was pressed within her. Gwen whimpered and then quickly bit down at her lip. She gave him what she hoped was a warning sort of look. _

_No dice._

_Though they remained mostly still against the stall door, Wade continued to grid slowly against her. It was just enough to make her squirm until the pisser a few feet away finished up and left. _

_"God!" Gwen hissed and hit Wade's shoulder._

_"Nope, just me - call me Wade," he told her smugly._

_Gwen had a smart retort for that -really, she did- but he headed her off by picking up where they'd left off when the unwitting cock-block had come._

_"Arrogant bastard," she murmured, the words undermined by the moan lacing her voice._

_"Uh-huh, talk dirt to me."_

_Wade had no qualms about the name-calling, rather seemed to derive some encouragement from it. He was spurred on, adjusting his hold on her to give himself more room to touch her and make sure they both got off before another patron could wander in and interrupt. _

_..._

_"Thought you were supposed to be strong; how come I'm doing the heavy lifting?"_

_They were slumped against the wall still regaining their breath, but he was ready for banter. Gwen swallowed heavily and lifted her head from where it was rested back against the stall. Wade was draped boneless against her, one hand clutching the top of the stall, but apparently he didn't feel in a vulnerable position. _

_"You might want to check your choice of words," Gwen smirked. _

_"Oooh, are you going to teach me a lesson" Wade gave a dramatic shudder at the thought _

_"Not today..."_

_He leant to kiss her again briefly and then slowly lowered her to her feet. _

_"Alright?" he checked, hitching his pants up with a soft grunt so he could redo his belt._

_"Uh-huh," Gwen licked her lips for any last trace of him and ran a hand through her lightly tussled hair. _

_As her heart returned to its normal pace, reality seemed to settle, too. The high was over and she was half naked in a bathroom. She huffed a soft snort and snaked an arm to unlock the stall door so she could shove Wade out. _

_"Wh- really?" he laughed as he tried to sound wounded. _

_"Just gimme a sec," Gwen chortled. _

_She grabbed some toilet paper to clean herself up and then straighten her pants, which were dangling uselessly off of one calf. Her shirt got fixed and smoothed-down, too, and she combed at her hair some more as she let herself out. The bathroom was empty by then, but she found Wade lounging in the hallway._

_He levied himself up to stand straight when Gwen emerged, a grin still on his face. _

_"M'lady," he offered her his elbow, which she swatted aside. _

_"I don't expect love letters and goodnight texts," she promised to his earlier question. _

_He only laughed at her response but got the gist and strolled down the hall out into the bar ahead of her. Gwen shortly followed, finding Weasel waiting crossly._

_"Leaving a purse sitting out around here is a good idea?" he snapped at her, lifting it from behind the bar where he'd clearly stashed it._

_"Well, it is when you're looking out for me. Thanks, mom," Gwen winked. _

_"I hate you"_

_"Nah, you don't," Wade negated. _

_"Don't even get me started on you," the bartender snorted. _

_"Will you cut it out if I pay my tab," Gwen interrupted what she was sure was going to be a colorful monologue. _

_"... ...I guess," he tutted. _

_"Good"_

_She did just that and, as promised, Weasel stopped nettling either of them. _

_"Want walked out?" Wade offered. _

_"Only if you're leaving, Prince Charming."_

_"Sure, why not"_

_Gwen wasn't really interested in Wade teasing her up to be a needy sort of girl, but the pair walk out together anyway. _

_"Later Wilson ...thanks again."_

_"I'm always willing to rock your world, Blondie- you know that"._

_She punched his shoulder lightly._

_"You know that's not what I'm talking about," she scowled. _

_"Yeah, yeah ...don't mention it," he shrugged. "Seriously."_

* * *

"That ...is a long story," was all Gwen came up with immediately for the hulking mutant.

Her past wasn't exactly an open book, and she didn't have any plans for that to change even if she was on friendly terms with the X-Men.

"Yeah, Spidey and I go way back…"

"Sucks for her," the teenager continue to add shitty commentary.

"You're not even annoying me anymore, Le Mis - this is the best. Day. Ever! Bring it in!"

He snatched Gwen into a hug tight enough that she grunted, but she hugged him back all the same.

And it was genuine.

It had been a blow to hear _\- after the fact, thank you very much_ \- about Wade's illness and subsequent supposed death. She had stepped back from the mercenary work and the scene at Sister Margaret's due to some personal business and life reevaluation by the time he had received his diagnosis and he and Vanessa had started traveling to look for treatments, but she had maintained enough contacts that she had eventually heard what happened to him.

"Wait a minute," she pushed away after some thought. "Does Weasel know about this?" she pointed at him.

"Of course; he's my comic relief," Wade nodded.

"And he never mentioned it?! I just saw him a couple months ago..."

"...Weasel?" Colossus tried and failed to catch up to what was going on since neither suited individual seemed prone to explanation.

"You did?!" Wade happily jumped onto the indignant bandwagon. "Dick-wad could have told me you were still in town - hold on," he threw up both hands and took a dramatic pause. "Does he know you're Spider Woman? Cuz I'll kill 'im..."

"Uh, no," Gwen blanched. "I keep that under wraps. I've just made some friends here, so..."

"Secret identity - I dig it," Wade empathized while dramatically waving his hand at his own suit.

"Uh-huh, about that... ...what the hell happened to you?" she took a few full steps back to look him over thoroughly.

She had heard of Deadpool, of course - she had too many street contacts to miss out on the news of him. She'd kept a distance because he seemed like trouble, so she had never even guessed that he was ...Wade.

"Ohhhh now _that_ is an even longer story," he assured her with a humorless sort of chuckle. "And I am only gonna tell it over drinks. Ready to blow this popsicle stand? We have a shit ton of catching up to do..."


	2. I Got a Feeling

**I've Got a Feeling**

Gwen Stacy was sure that, once upon a time, she had been silly enough to imagine that life after college would get easier. There wouldn't be classes with professors breathing down her neck, after all - she would have more time for web-slinging and crime fighting.

Except that gig didn't pay the bills and she had taken those classes for a reason. Like, perhaps ... to put them to use.

So now a boss was breathing down her neck instead of a professor. And, by all accounts, her professors had liked her a whole lot better than her current boss did.

John Jameson, chief editor of The Daily Bugle, was not an easy man to please. He demanded a lot of every employee, but Gwen had made the special mistake of pissing him off during a staff meeting. He had been railing loudly against Spider Woman, and she had dared to suggest that the vigilante was actually helping the city and that she, for one, slept a little easier knowing the lady was out there. A few heads had nodded in agreement with her, but she was the one who'd actually spoken up to disagree with him. He had yet to forget it.

So not only did he hate her as Spider Woman, but he kept a close eye on her as Gwen Stacy, too. Her work didn't leave a lot to complain about, however; she pumped out articles as needed. Hell, she'd even managed to snap some surprisingly high-quality photos of the swinging vigilante - wink! - and those issues had sold like hotcakes.

So she wasn't exactly living in constant fear of being fired, but she had a lot of rough days at the office. She liked it, though - really. Gwen had grown up fantasizing about traveling the world reporting on the biggest news. The Daily Bugle wasn't work on that sort of scale, of course, but at least it was in the same realm. Everything else in her world had been one mess or surprise after the other; at least this was something she'd chosen for herself ages ago.

But it was hard, and in her childhood fantasies it had not been hard. It had been exciting and exotic and full of new, interesting friends at every turn.

Her life as Spider Woman was extraordinary enough. She supposed it was only fair that her actual real-life career was more on the mundane side.

At least it was satisfying more than it was bad.

But it was still a dragging week, and it wasn't even Friday yet. One more day of heading into the office to face the scrutiny. Then it would be the weekend.

Gwen's weekends were not that of the typical, bright twenty-something, but at least she was free to do what she pleased when she pleased. Maybe she would actually take a weekend off, though. She hadn't had a completely quiet weekend with zero night patrol in some time, now, but she could think of a few things to do.

"One more day," she repeated and let herself into her third floor apartment with a sigh.

Gwen's apartment was nothing amazing, but it was more spacious than the first place she'd rented and it suited her well. She was able to furnish a living room, which adjoined her modest but functional kitchen. Living in a loft meant that her bedroom wasn't actually separate from her other rooms, but she'd strategically set up slatted partitions so that her bed would feel more private when she had visitors.

Most importantly, the place was hers and hers alone. She had chosen it, she had filled it.

Hers. A place of relaxation even when the world was being shitty.

If only she didn't have a feeling.

It had been accompanying her for some time now, a gnawing weight in her belly she couldn't fully shake. Like she was forgetting to do something. She just hadn't figured it out yet.

Relaxing for the coming weekend was sounding better and better by the moment...

"Hiya, Blondie," a cheerful voice greeted her just as she neared her bedroom.

Gwen started and took an involuntary step back even though she knew that voice. She was just glad she didn't yelp in surprise. She had clearly been too caught up in her thoughts to sense another presence in the apartment, and that was mildly disconcerting to her.

She stalked closer to her bedroom.

"Took you forever to come back tonight..."

There, laying on her bed with his ankles crossed and his arms folded behind his head, was Wade Wilson in full Deadpool regalia.

Funny enough, she knew she shouldn't be surprised.

"What are you doing?"

"I came to seduce you," he was happy to report. "I was being cuter earlier - full on Bert Reynolds."

At this, he twisted onto his side and propped his head on his hand.

"Geeze..."

"But then you took. Too. Long. So I got more comfy."

He returned to his lazier, supine position.

"Wade..."

"Ugh, that tone..."

Yes. There he lay on her down comforter griping like she was the real issue. She still wasn't fully surprised, but she wasn't resigned quite yet either.

"How do you even get in here?"

She came and went through the windows of her apartment regularly, but she otherwise left them locked when she used the door like a normal gal. He did not have a key to her place. Or, at least, she had not given him a key and he better not have made himself one behind her back.

"Why concern yourself with details?"

A typical sort of answer for Deadpool, treating breaking and entering like it was akin to strolling into the laundry mat. He'd done this before and she knew it really wasn't okay. They should have better boundaries than this...

Except that Gwen knew Wade was not a threat to her. He just wasn't. He was a dangerous person, in general, sure. He liked to stir the pot - any pot - and meddle in what didn't concern him, but he never showed up to cause her any harm.

"You need to stop doing this..."

"Then how am I suppose to see your smiling face?"

"Did you break your phone again?"

He was not known for taking exceptional care of his belongings.

"Nope," he popped the 'p.' "I still got you on speed dial, don't you worry."

"So did you forget how to use it?" she planted her hands on her hips, determined to make a point.

"Oh," he cooed and immediately sat up. "Bossy Gwen is coming out."

It didn't matter that his mask was in place. She could hear the leer in his voice as he stood.

"Wade," the blonde sighed and dropped her hands to her sides.

"No, no, no - gimme a lecture," he continued to stalk closer. "You can tell me I've been bad; I don't mind."

He reached her and scooped her hands up to place back onto her hips.

"I'll be even naughtier if you want..."

"Cut it out," Gwen stepped back and dropped her hands again.

"What?" he matched her step. "You don't like me when I'm naughty?"

He took another step, which she retreated from, and then another. She was annoyed, but her mouth betrayed her when the corner ticked up like she wanted to smirk.

"Aw, of course you do..."

Gwen's back met the doorframe to her bathroom. Stuck. Wade placed a hand on her stomach to guide her to the side so she stood flush against the wall instead. More stuck.

"What're you doing here, Wade?" Gwen tried again, resolutely ignoring the swirling heat resulted from his hand on a vulnerable part of her.

"I told you! I wanna seduce you..."

"I'm tired," she slumped more fully against the wall and rested her head back upon it.

"I'll do all the work," he happily offered and slid his hands over her hips. "You can just hang on for the ride."

Movement under his mask suggested he was waggling her eyebrows at her. It was times like that when it was still easy to picture the pre-cancer Wade flirting shamelessly and confidently at every turn. He had been obnoxious and dark then, too, though admittedly less tortured.

"As much as I just love being asked to be passive in bed - I need a shower."

Wade grumbled in a whiney fashion under his breath and shook her hips lightly.

"How about a bath?" she amended.

His head perked up from his put-on pouting.

"You mean I'm invited?"

"...as long as you're not a menace," Gwen narrowed her eyes.

"Best behavior," he promised, raising his hands in innocence.

His fingers were crossed on both hands.

Gwen tutted and smacked him lightly on the chest.

"Not a deterrent," he simply chirped. "You know I like it rough."

That got the tiniest of smirks out of Gwen, but she only slipped by him to head into the bathroom. There, she twisted on the water and started to unbutton her shirt once it was a descent temperature. Out in the main room she could hear rustling and the snapping of clips that meant Deadpool was dressing down.

"Did you really have to come with all of that?" she moved back to the door to see him setting his gun belt on top of her dresser, where he had already propped his katanas.

He didn't answer immediately but looked up from wiggling off a boot to wolf-whistle at her.

"Can't be too careful," he then went on.

Gwen considered him and supposed this was true. He was controversial at best, and his personal vendetta against Weapon X was no less shady than the paid mercenary work he still took-on. She felt sad for that, suddenly, and it must have shown.

That damn feeling...

"Whattcha staring at? And don't stop with the stripping," he waved impatiently at the unbuttoned blouse she hadn't fully shed yet.

Yes, he must have caught something on her visage that he didn't want aimed at him because he was usually more likely to put on a display if attention was on him instead of distract away from himself.

But she didn't push anything. Instead, she allowed the deflection and shook her shirt off of her shoulders so it fell to the floor. His soft growl of approval was guttural, and to hell if that didn't coil some of that warmth in her gut a bit tighter. His eyes lingered on the black bra she wore even as he fumbled with his second combat boot. When he teetered precariously, she chuckled and disappeared further into the bathroom.

"Booo!" his shout followed her. "What about my strip tease?"

Gwen bit her lip to stop herself from telling him to keep it down lest he take it as a dare to catch a neighbor's attention. He just couldn't help himself sometimes. And she didn't need to deal with complaining neighbors on top of everything else, did she? She already had patrols by night and Jameson to deal with by day. If she had to put up with annoyed or perverted glances from other tenants in the hallways, she might snap. She took a few moments to imagine laying into Ms. Phillips one floor down who was always complaining about something already.

Shaking this away, she bent forward to turn the tap off.

There was no point in worrying about something that hadn't happened yet. Besides, even if she wanted to, there was virtually no talking Deadpool out of being there now that he'd settled himself in.

"Aw, what the hell," he complained upon entering the bathroom to see her still standing there in fitted black pants and a bra.

He himself was already naked besides his mask.

"Quit complaining and get in," she bossed.

Through she tried to sound annoyed with him, she raked her eyes along his form.

By now she was used to the mottled and uneven skin. It had, truthfully, been alarming at first sight, and she had even been hesitant to touch him. This had been less due to the Freddy Krueger likeness as Wade claimed and because she thought she would hurt him. It had taken her a while to understand that the skin was not raw like it appeared - no, it had just healed in gnarled fashion. By now she trusted he wasn't lying or putting on a brave face. It was much easier, these days, to look beyond this outermost layer and appreciate instead what it covered. He was still thickly muscled and cut and, at the moment, sporting a semi-chub.

"You better still be joining," he pointed a stern finger at her that she did not take seriously.

But he didn't continue arguing and stepped into the hot water. Then he sunk in to sit with a comfortable groan. Gwen wanted in, too, so she unbuttoned her pants and peeled them away while trying not to be amused with the quiet chant of "uh-huh, uh-huh" from Wade or the hiss of "yes" when her underwear followed.

"Want help with the rest?" he offered lecherously, fingers dancing impatiently on the edge of the tub.

"I'm sure I can do it faster," she chortled, reaching behind herself.

"And she questions my skills," he sat back in a huff.

His head remained tilted in a way that allowed him to watch, however.

Indeed, Gwen made short work and dropped away her bra, allowing the weight of her breasts to settle freely. They were not overwhelming but were ample enough. Their reveal generally elicited a comment from Wade, but his lips remained petulantly silent just now. She saw this for what it was, so it didn't cause her shame for her nudity. She did feel intimidated by Wade's physique on occasion - something he did not believe due to his personal perception laying emphasis on his skin - but he'd shown enough unyielding interest in her and encouraged such reckless abandon in general that she rarely felt abashed with him.

"You don't need that, you know."

Her voice was light but admonishing while she forced her hair up in a knot, and then she reached to trace a finger along the neck of his mask. He didn't comment until she took his silence for indifference and curled a finger under the hem.

The water splashed a bit when he reached up to snatch her wrist.

"I know I don't," he finally answered her statement, though he didn't look up toward her. "I want it today."

He did take the mask off around her at times, but a massive part of him still really didn't like to. The essential loss of his face was more identity-marring than any other part of his disfigurement, so many of his insecurities hinged there. He'd said aloud before that he'd rather she remember his original visage. He had even insisted that he didn't mind if she wanted to pretend that was still the face that laid behind the mask - that bit she did not believe.

"Now c'mon, c'mon; I wanna stare straight at your rack," he waved her toward the other side of the tub. "Unless you wanna stand there all day," he added and reached for her bare thigh.

"I want to sit with you," she batted his hand away and leant forward to nudge his bent knees a little further apart to make room for herself.

"Well spread my legs and call me Kristi..."

"Kristi?" Gwen cocked a brow.

"The Manhattan Madame? Maybe you're too young to remember..."

"I'm not surprised you remember" she retorted honestly while letting his hands guide her down to nestle comfortably between his thighs.

Wade shifted himself and wedged her in close. Certainly close enough that she could feel his hardening length against her back. He gave another soft, contented groan and circled his arms around her while she relaxed against his chest.

"You feel good, Blondie," he nuzzled his face into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his mask rough but not quite irritating.

"Mmhmm," Gwen rested her eyes and tried to let her muscles loosen up.

The water had previously risen under Wade's pecs but now rose around Gwen's collar bones where she'd slouched herself in against him. The water was bordering on too hot but felt great. This should help her.

"Wade..."

Without opening her eyes, Gwen caught the hand that was sliding down from stomach toward her crotch.

A finger had brushed the line of curls leading South before she stopped him, and he tutted at his failure.

"It's too quiet. I wanna make you sing," he twitched his hips her way.

"Let me relax."

"Oh, I can make you feel good..." he squeezed her middle.

"I know you can," she agreed, voice soft.

His hands traveled North to her chest, then, and his touch was light on her breasts. After a few moments it then became more of a massage ...and then he tweaked and rolled her nipples with purpose. She gave a soft whimper at the unexpected changed in pressure, to which his cock gave a minor twitch, but she brushed his hands off again.

"Ugh," he was dramatic again. "You're killin' me..."

"Just wait."

She left off the 'please' because she wasn't inclined to begging - though Wade did so love to push her to that point sometimes and, okay, in suitable circumstances she did like it a bit, too. It turned out there must have been enough of a plea in her tone because he didn't try to bargain or banter this time.

Instead, he allowed the quiet.

When the water shifted and dripped again it was because he'd brought his hands up to her shoulders. He squeezed and massaged. Gwen moaned softly when his thick fingers dug into the back of her neck, and then he did give a short grunt in response. Usually touching her that way was possessive and sexual, but he didn't make further moves.

Still wordless, he flattened a hand between her shoulder blades and pressed her forward so he could trail these ministrations a little further along her spine. Gwen wanted to go limp, then. Instead, she drew her knees up further so she could rest her arms there and lean forward onto them to give him more room. Wade didn't voice a complaint but did pause the massage to grasp her hips and move her back more tightly against his groin to fix the gap she'd inadvertently created. She smiled silently where her head rested on their folded forearms.

His hands were strong as they kneaded along her spine and dug into muscle. It made her want to be sleepy but was actually quite arousing.

The water had gone from hot to warm by the time he wasn't so much massaging as tracing her spine or chasing water droplets on her skin.

"...are you drawing?" she guessed after a minute or two of this lighter touch.

"Already drew a massive dick ...now I'm just adding classy, light shading to some boobs," he broke his silence since she had invited it.

Gwen snorted.

"Part of the same picture?"

"Of course. Titty fucking is a thing even if it's not your bag of fun..."

Chuckling, she straightened and fished his hands away so she could lean against him and tuck his arms around her once more.

"Thank you, Wade," she twisted to kiss his bicep. "That felt nice."

"I get it," he sounded breezy and overly-rueful. "Baby girl is havin' a hard week..."

"Mmhmm ...I have a feeling," she added.

"Like an orgasmic feeling?" his fingers tickled lightly on her side and he shifted his hips again as if to remind her his dick was still there.

As if she couldn't feel it.

"No, just a bad feeling - it won't go away..."

He stilled.

"Anybody I need to kill?"

She knew the genuineness of that offer should make her mad - comments like this from him did usually bother her these days. But today it didn't.

"No, nothing like that."

His arms squeezed around her again, and she expected another comment about making her feel good, but he let it go for the moment.

"How're you?" she asked, then. "I haven't seen you around in a while."

"Been outta town for a job."

"Oooo, where?"

"I could tell you but I'd have to kill you," he growled in what he liked to call his'work voice.'

"Oh come on," she shook his knee.

"Canada."

"Canada? Canada's huge, and you couldn't just tell me that?"

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at his (possibly warranted) secrecy. Then she remembered he couldn't see her face so she did it anyway.

"I gotta keep the mystery alive, Blondie. Don't I?"

"You're mysterious enough."

She felt more than heard him chuckle in response.

"Were you gone on the job this whole time?"

It had been nearly three weeks since they'd lounged around his apartment with pizza boxes trying to puzzle out some of Weapon X's recent movements. And, okay, they'd gotten naked a few times, too.

"Yup. Lotta recon. I'm not all brawn ...mostly, though," he flexed his arms around her again as proof.

She huffed at the squeeze that was too-tight this time.

"You should tell me when you leave for work - I worry sometimes."

"Aw, you were worried?" his voice rose to an octave that suggested that any remaining seriousness had left the conversation.

"Shut up."

"That why you got all bossy-pants with me when I showed up? Masking your emotion," he continued crooning as if he could talk about masking feelings with any high ground. "You know I can't get killed out there."

She certainly did know. She'd seen him die a few times herself, after all.

"That's not the only thing that could happen worth worrying about."

He didn't respond immediately, perhaps seeing if she would do the honors of making a quip to bring them back up to shallower water from that comment. She didn't.

"You gettin' soft on me, Spidey?" he dipped a hand low onto her stomach to press her tightly to him.

She was a bit worked up from the massage by that time and pressure that low on her body felt divine. Gwen only shook her head in denial and reached to her side to give his thigh a squeeze. This elicited an appreciative hum just behind her ear, and his hand tightened a fraction further where it sat against her pelvis.

"Did I wait long enough?"

His voice was a whisper, but Gwen heard him loud and clear so she nodded.

"Hmm?"

Gwen gasped as he continued to press against the heat pooling in her belly.

"Yeah," she gave a verbal answer.

She felt him relax around her. The hand on her stomach released her so his fingers could search lower and slip between her legs. His other calloused hand reached for the drain and yanked out the plug. The lukewarm water began to drawn away, leaving coolness in its wake against the skin. Gwen only half noticed, as the hand between her legs hadn't stilled. Wade's fingers worked diligently as if he wasn't quite convinced that she'd given up her quest for languid relaxation.

"You still need to sit in the tub?" he checked with a casual air, never mind that two of his fingers were inside her slowly stroking.

Goose bumps now covered her entirely and she shivered.

"MmmMmm," she shook her head, hands now gripping both of his thighs.

"Thank fuck.."

He released her and gathered his feet underneath him. Before Gwen could do the same, Wade's arm snaked under and behind her to lift her straight up. Her momentary fear that he would slip on wet tile was swiftly expelled, for he made quick time back into her bedroom where he dropped her back to her feet at the foot of her bed. Another shiver danced down her spine, so she made to pull him back close to her again. He ignored her and leaned past her to grab the top blanket off her bed and give it a hearty tug until it tumbled onto the floor.

A fresh spike of annoyance hit her before he gave her a sharp shove so that she'd fell onto her bed. Part of her - a quite minuscule, distant corner of her - figured she ought to be indignant about the bodily treatment. She didn't need to be manhandled. Except that this was Wade and this was promising a downright pleasurable time. She was never scared of him, not even when she sort of wanted to be.

As she thought this, Wade fetched the discarded comforter and unfurled it up into the air so it fell over her. Before she even processed being grateful for the warmth it was going to provide, Wave had flicked the bottom of the blanket up so he could dive underneath. Then, all at once, it was apparent that he had also lifted the bottom of his mask because his mouth began to devour her core without warning.

"Oh," she threw her head back and dropped her legs open further to accommodate him.

His hands bracketed her hips, messaging and digging at the flesh while also tipping her up for better access. His tongue was wide and wet and warm, andlord ...did he ever know just where to bestow his attention and suckle at her flesh.

"Wade..." his name fell from her lips even though she knew - knew - he might then feel compelled to respond.

"You need somethin'?" he peeled his lips away from her.

"N-mmm," she cut herself off when he slipped fingers back inside of her in lieu of his mouth. "No," she panted.

"No?" his tone lilted and he stilled altogether.

Annoyed, she yanked the blanket up to peek down into the darkness at him.

"I ... ...I'm not sure there's a good way to answer," she admitted after opening her mouth to retort and get him to continue.

Wade snickered and twisted his masked head to bite her inner thigh. Her leg twitched, but she refrained from clutching his head lest he use it as an excuse to nip at the tender flesh again.

"You could use your manners," his voice trilled up to her.

Gwen forced her body to relax back into the bed and not to rebel.

"Please, Wade..."

If foreplay had begun the moment they'd started undressing, she was more than ready now.

"Hmmm," he laid an open-mouthed kiss against her clitoris. "Maybe manners aren't what I wanted," he continued, though his fingers picked up their movement inside of her again. "Maybe I need a little dirty talk..."

Gwen knew he might not shut up for some time, so she reached under the blanket for his head and directed his face back to her.

"Oh, bossy Spidey is back," he resisted enough to say.

Then he dove back in with gusto and gave a grunt as he hoisted her ass a fraction off the bed.

Gwen left a hand on the top of his head, digging her fingers at the leather mask but resisting the urge to pull it off entirely since Wade had already spoken on this. Her other hand grabbed at his bare arm but soon dropped to the sheets and twisted her fingers into the soft fabric.

"Ngh, mmmmmm, W-" Gwen chewed into her lip until it hurt to stop her from uttering Wade's name, least he choose to stop and chat again.

One always had to be ready for Wade to play games.

"Say it," he only paused long enough to say before licking along her folds again. "Say it, Gwen" he repeated from under the blankets and pinched her ass.

"Wade," she gasped then groaned. "Wade..."

His hands tightened their grip upon her, and her back arched up off of the bed until she came with a protracted sigh. Wade absolutely didn't stop then. Indeed, he continued until she pressed him away and closed her legs to him, panting.

Wade took his time in making his way up her body. He kissed, licked, and nipped at any bit of skin he came across, and he repeated anything that made her squirm. He'd learned the touches she liked by now, but he was surprisingly generous in bed - or wherever else they wound up getting naked - and was always open to learn a thing or two. Knowledge was power and all that, right?

"Mmmm," Gwen was biting at her bottom lip again when he sucked onto her throat.

He glanced up to see the swollen lip between her teeth, so he slipped a hand up to tug that lip free -he'd need those uninjured. She bit at his fingers, instead, but he hardly minded; he even left them there for her to do it again. Wade just scraped his own teeth along the flesh of her throat to remind her he could play that way, too. Gwen whimpered at that, and both of her hands fell to his shoulders. When she did not make a move to actually push him off, Wade took her hands and pinned them to her sides on the bed.

He knew she was sensitive about her neck. He had already wormed his way past that aversion, and he liked to exploit it to remind them both that he had damn well earned it. He continued to mouth at her throat and neck until she was absolutely writhing, at which time he scooted up further and clamped his mouth onto hers. She was squirming her wrists in his hold by then, so he released her to let her hug her arms around him.

Her legs cradled her to him as well, and he wrapped himself around her like a boa, but boy he wasn't going to hurt her - **never!**

"Gwen," he groaned and left her mouth to bite and suck along her jaw.

"Can I, Gwen?" he rutted against her.

"Wade..."

"Please don't tease," he sucked onto her ear and groaned hotly when her legs tightened around him.

And Wade didn't usually beg, but he did always ask.

Always. In some way or the other.

"Wade," Gwen sat her head back to smile. "We're both naked and you're nearly already in me - of course I want to."

She hitched a leg around his to try leveraging him even closer.

"Why?" his voice was hardly more than a breath in her ear, but he was still so close that she couldn't have missed it even without her enhanced hearing.

"What?" she loosened herself around him in surprise.

He hadn't meant to speak aloud, so he ignored her -**ladies like that, right? Right. **He descended on her mouth again instead, for it seemed like an acceptable distraction given their situation.

It was a success. She kissed him back and stopped asking questions. So he worked his way into her, slow at first and then picked up the pace to match his enthusiasm. And Gwen didn't disappoint, of course; her legs squeezed him, her hands clung to him and dug thin crescents of pain into his skin. She was fabulous. He started to picture her on top so he could better witness all that amazing at work. The bodacious Ms. Stacy would totally be into ...

**Nope! Not what we agreed to today.**

Wade shifted his weight back a bit to sit up onto his knees and tore Gwen's arms from him to pin her hands to the side again.

"Thought I was suppose to be doing all the work for you," he reminded her.

"Oh, come on," her hands itched to hold something.

"Uh-uh," he continued thrusting without missing a beat. "Baby girl's gotta relax; she's gotta work tomorrow ...daddy's just gonna make you feel good."

Gwen tried to tut, but it was more of a moan. She knew Wade could happily hold a whole conversation throughout sex, but she was more easily distracted and knew she rarely put together a particularly coherent sentence.

"You know I don't like the daddy thing..."

"How about papa? Papi?" Wade tested out words that might land more to her liking.

"Wade..."

"Okay, yeah, that's good, too," his breathing was growing harder but he was perfectly understandable. "Classic ...that's it, baby," he groaned when her hips rolled into his with a gasp. "Fuck yeah..."

Gwen's hands flexed around nothing, so Wade shifted to intertwine his fingers in hers and keep them pinned but also allow her something to hold onto.

"Damn, Gwen," he kept up commentary. "I never shouldda left that long," he groaned, never mind that he'd been gone longer on several occasions. "You feel so damn perfect..."

Being a 'Merc with a Mouth' didn't come with a lot of boundaries. He'd talk your ear off while killing you as easily as he'd babble on in the sack, and as long as he was making Gwen feel good, he didn't see what was so wrong with that.

**'And I'd say she's definitely feelin' good...' **he congratulated himself as he looked down at her arching her back below him.

"Well, if you're gonna offer them so nicely," he quipped and bent to latch his mouth to her chest.

"Nnmmm, Wade, you feel so good," Gwen breathed.

Ole Gwen wasn't a huge talker in bed, but she'd do it for him. In fact, he'd gotten her downright filthy with enough encouragement. But she was more of a feeler and a grabber and a moaner, which was just as well. He was determined to get her screaming one of these days, too. No boundaries.

"Not as good as you, baby girl ... ...if you could be me bein' inside of you, you'd believe me..."

And was it wrong that this got his mind spinning in the direction of swapping positions so she was fucking into him, and ...hell, he'd proudly rock some tits of his own in his suit. That was normal, right? **Right**.

Her nails scrapping hard over the tops of his hands drew him back to reality, and he focused on their actual position. She was close to coming; he could tell it. Giddily, he gave her nipple a last bite, relishing in the gasp. Then he was shifting her arms up over her head so he could pile her hands and tangle them in just one of his own. With his newly-free hand, he pressed his thumb into her mouth to swipe over her tongue.

"I've got you," he murmured at her over her soft gasps now accompanying each thrust. "Yeah, I gottcha..."

His hand slipped between them to rub her off so she would come again with him - **mama was a bitch, but she didn't raise no slouch.**

**...**

"Jesus," Gwen sighed when Wade released her hands and she lazily looped an arm over his now-still shoulders.

"Still just me ...I could consider a name change, though," he offered and shifted to the side to slump onto the mattress next to her.

She smacked his chest lightly.

"That joke doesn't get funnier, you know."

"Cheap laugh or not, if you tee me up I'm gonna take a swing," he yawned, reaching up to right his mask.

"Wait," Gwen caught his wrist to stop him and twisted onto her side for a deep, slow kiss that dragged out into a few more.

"You're needy, Stacy," he commented when they parted and he laid back to finish fixing the mask.

As if he hadn't leaned into it or slid his arm around her waist. Gwen ignored the remark altogether since it fell so short. She tried to straighten out the blanket Wade had liberated and rearranged, instead, since it was twisted.

"I'll get it, I'll get it," he grumbled when her tugging did nothing bust jostle him lightly. "Go take a piss like all good, hygienic girls should after a nice fuck..." he waved her out of his way.

Gwen muttered under her breath about him being the bossy one, now, but rolled over and stood up anyway.

"...are you going to leave while I'm in there?" she paused after only taking a step.

She wouldn't be mad, per say, but she would prefer a heads up. It's not like he said goodbye every time he left. She had come back to an empty bed during the middle of the night on more than one occasion. One of those times he'd taken an extra minute to arrange a dislodged sheet and the pillows into a smiley face, which had been original.

"Nope. Your mattress is nicer than mine," he told her carelessly as he began to shimmy around the blanket.

Satisfied that he probably wouldn't lie straight to her face after a direct question, Gwen scampered to the bathroom to relieve herself and clean up a little bit. As promised, Wade was stretched out in the middle of the bed under the covers when she returned.

"You feelin' better about that feeling?" he spoke up after they relaxed in silence a few moments.

"Mmhmm"

"Deadpool's dick, here to distract," he announced and saluted the ceiling, as he was laying on his back.

Gwen laughed and traced his abdomen where she lay against his side.

"Mission accomplished, soldier."

"My orgasm count is almost as high as my kill count, ma'am," he played along.

Gwen snorted and pinched the skin under his navel.

"Owwie - not fair. Kiss it and make it better..."

He scooped his hand over the back of her head and exerted half-hearted pressure as if to direct her down the length of his body. She pinched skin over his ribs in retaliation, then, and he grunted in discomfort but released her. Lest he get further ideas, she ducked off of his shoulder and turned onto her opposite side.

"No running, Blondie," he complained and followed her movement to spoon himself around her.

He didn't appear to be up to mischief with the move, so she let herself relax again. No matter how much he annoyed or worried her in turn, it really was nice to see him again. Crazy of her though it may be, she knew she'd sleep well with him there.

"Nighty night," he mumbled into her hair, which at some point had fallen from the compact, haphazard bun she'd arranged it in for the bath.

She hardly cared about that but relaxed into the heat surrounding her.


	3. A Favor Between Friends

Okay, I think this could be time for a _**warning:**_

Nothing non-consensual happens in this chapter. They do chase/wrestle (for funsies) ...if that's uncomfortable in a sexual context, you can read until the page break and not miss anything super important. Look out for yourself.

That is all.

* * *

A Favor Between Friends

The evening was warm, which was pleasantly surprising for September when one never really knew what to expect. The nights had been starting to grow a bit chillier, but it seemed that Summer was still trying to say goodbye.

It was all the same to Spider Woman. Thanks to none other than Tony Stark for helping her with updates and modifications, her suit regulated internal temperature to compensate for the elements. Since New York ran the gamut of weather conditions, this was a welcomed improvement to the much more simple suits she'd once had. Stark, back when he'd tracked her down, had also had some ideas about a changed color scheme and an upscale design, but there were some things she had wanted to retain as her own. He'd relented with moderate grumblings.

But this night was a nice one as she leapt from one rooftop to the other. Things had been quiet so far, but that could change any moment. A street was always calm right up until the moment that it wasn't.

Her dad had used to say that. Years as a beat cop had taught him as much.

The unbidden thought was like a punch to the gut, but it was totally just a wild coincidence that she chose that moment to take a break. She dropped down to perch on the railing of a fire escape to scowl down at the alley below.

Embarrassingly late on the uptake, Gwen had tracked down the source of her bad mood: her father's death. The anniversary of his death was still some weeks away, but the event had sullied much of the Fall season for her. While once she had enjoyed the changing leaves and the prep for the coming holidays - Thanksgiving being her dad's favorite - that was no longer the case. Her subconscious had sensed the the impending downer of an anniversary when the weather began to change before she had truly realized she was thinking about it. This was either a testament to the strength of her Spidey-sense or the depth of her denial.

So she'd recently found as many reasons as possible to become a recluse. She started patrols a little sooner and took on some extra projects at work so she wouldn't have to actually explain herself. Her friends would have understood. Mary Jane and Betty, for instance, had known her dad and would have been more than happy to let her talk about him. She just didn't want to. There was too much tied up in his death that she hadn't even let herself deal with yet. Grief, of course, but also guilt and shame. She was afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she talked about it too much. On this particular topic, she was much like a damn fit to burst.

As a generally logical person, Gwen knew that this all meant she should talk about it rather than play the avoiding game. She should join some kind of support group or go to therapy - something. She'd gone so far as to look up counselors claiming experience in helping clients deal with grief, but she had never pulled the trigger.

If she thought about it too much - and she certainly didn't - she might have been concerned that she felt she deserved the troubled feelings.

The sound of shouting and dogs barking broke her out of here revere. The ruckus was a few blocks off, but she made quick work of the distance with her webs. Gracefully, she landed on the corner of a different building and studied a new alleyway. Several men were pouring out of a nondescript building that otherwise appeared abandoned. That was strange, if not criminal ...but then she zeroed-in on a handgun tucked in the pants of one of the retreating men.

That was suspicious enough to warrant looking into, so she leapt into action. She swung down and knocked a couple of the men to the ground, tripping another by pulling garbage bags out into their path. Then a few purposeful shots of webbing had them rooted to alley walls unable to flee or reach for their guns.

Cautiously, she headed for the door they had come from. There was still some shouting inside and the echoing of barking dogs. Speaking of which, she deciphered the sound of panting, pattering, and scraping nails against concrete. At this, Gwen preemptively leapt and clung to the wall beside the door just a few moments before three large dogs came bounding out. She watched them disappear down the alley and then craned her neck into the doorway to look around. She didn't see or hear anything more coming. The barking that was left sounded more distant, as was the shouting, so she dropped deftly to her feet and crept inside. Gwen continued to follow her ears until she recognized one of the voices over the reverb in the space.

"Damn it..."

She set into a sprint and hopped down a flight of stairs to skid into the wide cement basement.

"Deadpool!"

There he was with a hefty man shoved against the wall while he shouted in his face -oh, and then there was the gun shoved hard into the underside of the other man's jaw! Swiftly, she caught the gun in her webs and gave a hard yank so that it skittered away across the floor.

The white eyes that whipped in her direction were narrowed into slits, but they widened at the sight of her and most of his body relaxed. One arm stayed tightly pinned to the older man's throat, however.

"Hiya, Spidey!"

"What are you doing?"

"...educating," Deadpool decided judiciously.

"Educating," Gwen repeated to herself in a whisper. "Let him go."

"Nuh-uh."

He sounded happy even as he declined, and then he turned his attention back to the man in his hold. He jabbed him in the gut to stop his squirming.

He didn't reach for another gun - or a knife, or one of his katanas - right away, so Gwen took a moment to look around. Several rudimentarily homemade cages made of chain-link fence lined the walls. There was also a stench hanging around the place that had made her wrinkle her nose before she'd even reached the stairs.

"What is this place?" she asked even though the pieces were already snapping into place for her .

"What was it, genius?" Deadpool demanded of his captive, his voice in the growling timbre she never much liked. "What was it? Tell her!"

The man didn't offer an answer right away, so Deadpool punched him in the side of the head. Then again. And again. Gwen cringed and moved forward, never mind that it seemed this man deserved the rough treatment.

"Alright, alright - I get it," she waved a hand. "I get it ...this guy's the ringleader?"

"Sure is - aren'tcha, buddy? I'll find your pals, too, don't you worry..."

"Well, a few are already bound up in the alley..." Gwen helpfully supplied.

"Nice! We make a good team - haven't I always said," Deadpool raised a hand for a high-five, which Gwen ignored. "I have. I've been saying it for ages," he told the man in his grasp who was his only true captive audience. "She can lasso 'em up, I'll knock 'em down ...pew, pew, pew," he mimed shooting imaginary bad guys with a finger gun.

"You're crazy," the mustached man before him wheezed.

"Sure. Now he talks ...hey, whattcha doin'? I didn't know you liked trashy guys, Spidey. Will you feel me up, too, if I start a dog fighting ring?" Deadpool rambled on while Spider Woman neared and began patting down the man's pockets.

She didn't dane to respond but plucked a phone from the man's pocket and waved it in front of Deadpool's masked face.

"Yeah," he returned to his feral-like growl, his blank eyes somehow wild anyway. "Find every single one of his friends..."

"Call the cops," the white-and-black clad woman corrected.

"Aw, hell to the no!"

He made a swipe for the phone but Spider-Woman reacted first and sprung backwards out of the way.

"The cops can round these guys up and shut down the operation, and they can find a place for the dogs," she pointed a white finger across the wide space towards the dogs still penned and barking.

"Cops are spoil sports," Deadpool whined.

"So, what, you're going to shoot everyone and let the dogs roam the streets?"

Deadpool cocked a head and feigned pondering that.

"Sure, why not? Pups deserve some fresh air and freedom. I'll give 'em a few bones to chew on," he shook the criminal a bit by the front of his shirt.

"They're scared and hurt and probably sick," she pointed out.

The pause for thought, then, felt more genuine.

"...I can still kill him though, right?"

"No."

They had already negotiated under which circumstances she would turn a blind eye to his usual methods, and they all revolved around the Weapon X organization. This, so far as she could tell, was completely unrelated.

"...what if I don't call it killing. What if I say I want to un-alive him? Does that change your stance?" he bartered terms.

"No."

"...what if I feed him to his dogs? Then I'm not actually doing the killing," he made a last attempt.

"Tempting," Gwen nodded for effect. "But no."

His eyes narrowed again, this time directly at her, and it was actually a bit alarming.

She wasn't scared of Wade. As in: she couldn't imagine a situation in which he would actually hurt her. Besides, she would probably be alright even if he did try since she was physically stronger than him - they had already tested this, and she was 99% sure he wasn't even bothered with the results. Even so, sometimes the way Wade could get did unnerve her. His sheer unpredictability, which was fun in many circumstances, could also be unsettling.

"...you owe me, then," he leaned down a bit towards her.

"Okay," she shrugged.

What was a favor between ...friends?

"...can we web him to the fence?" he thrust a thumb over his shoulder towards the dogs down the way.

"... ... ...sure," she decided there was a sort of poetic justice in that idea.

"Yes," he punched his fist into the air.

Then he punched this ringleader in the throat and started dragging him along while he continued to sputter.

"Book 'im, Danno," he cheered and hurled the man against the fence.

Gwen wondered if she should be put-off by his enthusiasm but decided to simply be happy he hadn't thrown much heart into his argument for killing this dude. So she webbed the man's wrists to the fencing without comment. The man was a bit of a groggy mess, but the growling and chomping teeth spurred him into movement to yell and stretch as far away as possible.

She found she didn't mind the sight of him being afraid of the dogs he had obviously mistreated. She chose not to dwell on what that might mean of her and dialed the police. Deadpool was busy heckling the trapped man while she fed a few details and their location to dispatch before hanging up.

"We gotta roll," she dropped the phone for the cops' perusal.

"Yeah, yeah," Deadpool didn't seem inclined but did turn away after a last kick to the criminal's groin.

Gwen knocked his elbow lightly and then turned to go. He fell in step just behind her moments later.

"Just a heads up: the favor I want is 100% going to be sexual," he told her primly.

The matter-of-fact statement sent a pleasurable shiver straight down her spine even though she half-wished it didn't. This really wasn't the time or the place; she shouldn't approve...

"Second heads up: it might be freaky and is definitely going to be rough," he finished with a smack to her ass.

She whirled around, glaring at him from behind her mask, and then glanced past him.

"Fuck him," Deadpool griped. "He's preoccupied."

He was likely right, so she let it go. If she complained too enthusiastically he might just do it again.

When they reached the alley Deadpool had a good laugh at the poor schmucks caught out there. He even took time to taunt one man with his gun that he'd retrieved from the basement floor and had yet to re-holster. He seemed to be enjoying himself and might have stuck around all night playing games if sirens hadn't drawn nearer and Gwen hadn't shepherded him away up a fire escape. She scaled the wall, herself, acutely aware that Wade was taking the the stairs at a run to race her.

She vaulted lightly over the roof's ledge before he took his last thundering steps and scaled the few ladder rungs to join her.

"Bitch," he sighed. "I'm fast... ...it was all the back and forth, back and forth," he defended himself by waving at the offending fire escape.

"What were you doing out here tonight?" Gwen demanded.

Wade threw his head back to stare at the heavens and slumped his shoulders in an exhausted way.

"Spare me."

"I'm serious."

"I just heard about this place through the grapevine ...I hate people and love dogs, so sue me," he threw his hands up.

"You could have told me."

"I mean ...yeah," he conceded. "But then what fun was I supposed to have? My datebook was free for the night."

"... ...you knew I might be in the area," she glared.

He knew what areas she patrolled. Hell, he'd joined her on occasion when he was bored or if he was just feeling altruistic. Or, as he often added, if he wanted more time to stare at her ass in lycra. He was usually thoroughly uninterested in her explanation of what material her suit was actually made of.

"I was crossing my fingers you'd be busy saving a kitten," he shrugged and kicked at some trash on the rooftop. "You want some tacos?"

Gwen had been deciding whether she should bother being offended about the kitten comment and so started at the change of topic.

"Huh?"

"I haven't had dinner yet; I'm hungry!"

Tacos always sounded good, so she gave it some serious consideration.

"I should stay out a little longer..."

"This do-gooder syndrome isn't contagious, is it? Because, frankly, I'm concerned..."

"Night, Wade," she bid and headed for the roof's edge.

A quick free fall and the rush of the wind while she swung back and forth across the streets should help her clear her head.

"I'll save you some grub if you wanna stop by later..."

She paused, toes already dangling over the edge of the building.

"...and hot sauce?"

"Hells yeah."

She gave a nod and then bounced herself over the edge of the building and dropped away.

Even though he knew better - he'd seen plenty of her acrobatics - it always gave Wade a brief second of panic when she did that. Couldn't she just cast a web and swing away like a normal human-spider-hybrid? Her penchant for free-falling was just plain rude.

* * *

Later in the night, Wade was clad only in sweatpants and a mask inspecting herbs out on his apartment's patio. He'd come out to water the planter he kept hung on the railing, and now he was sure he was seeing some damage to the dill. He didn't know what might be making a meal of his little plant babies, and he also wasn't entirely sure that it would be worth waging war to save his mini-garden.

**No, gotta destroy them!**

Yes, true. It was his and he did not take well to intruders.

"Problem?"

Well, okay. Scratch that. There was one intruder he could put up with.

Looking up, grin hidden in his mask, he found his little Spider Lady latched onto the neighboring balcony to watch him.

"Just coming up with a plan of attack."

He hardly batted an eye when she sprung between balconies and nimbly levied herself over his railing to stand next to him.

"Who are we attacking?"

"So we are a team!"

She didn't respond but bent to examine his planter box, so he joined her.

"...botany isn't really my forte, but something has definitely taken up residence," she poked a basil leaf with a white glove.

"Oh, I'll get 'em," Wade nodded, a slight growl to his voice.

Gwen grinned and straightened up, adjusting the pack on her back. She stashed changes of clothes on random rooftops around the city in case of emergency or a simple change of plans while patrolling, so she'd snatched one on her way here.

"Tacos?"

"En mi casa, senorita," Wade pulled back his slider door with a flourish.

"Gracias."

Wade's apartment was both bigger and fuller than her own. The most gracious way to describe it would be to call it "busy." He had many things and no true organizational system, but she had been around enough to know that there was a (currently unknown) method to his madness. Organized chaos, if you will. It was better these days than it had once been, but Wade stoutly denied that this had anything to do with the fact that she had become a regular visitor.

Gwen made a beeline for his bathroom to relieve herself and change. His restroom managed to not be disgusting, though for some reason the mental image of him actually cleaning the shower or scrubbing the toilet was humorous to her. She reemerged in leggings and a tank top to find Wade in the kitchen piling food onto a plate that he then shoved into the microwave.

"Find those kittens?" Wade asked, watching her drop her backpack while she tried to tamp down her tussled, shoulder length hair.

He liked that she felt comfortable enough to make herself at home in his apartment - **nest here! Nest!** \- but he wouldn't tell her so. He was much more likely to gripe at her for adding to his perfect mess. He confused himself sometimes.

**Haven't scared her off yet, though. Score!**

"No kittens. Things were pretty quiet."

He watched with interest as she rose her arms over her head and leaned back to stretch her back, then leaned side to side to make sure she got any leftover cricks out. All of this had the added effect of her pushing her chest out. Yeah, she could definitely do that here. Actually, he was hard pressed to think of something he wouldn't let her do there.

Gwen slumped onto a barstool, then, and propped her elbow on the counter so she could balance her chin there and rest her eyes. She trusted him. He couldn't help a surge of possessiveness seeing her there so calm. He knew she didn't need a protector. He'd seen her prove as much -** Hot!** -and yet seeing her relax and be vulnerable in his presence was heady. Like she knew he could take care of her if she needed it.

And he could and he would.

Who else even trusted him with that kind of shit anymore? Granted, he'd killed a good many people **\- blood! Blood! Blood!** \- but they deserved it. Mostly. Usually.

He sometimes wondered if Gwen ever would have come to like or - surely not - trust him if she hadn't known him in his pre-cancer days to give her a greater reference for who he was.

**Cut it out.**

Because that was a depressing thought: that he wasn't enough now. That when all of his old friends died off and he was still wandering through life un-killable ...no one would know him. Not really, anyway. No one would even come close to understanding that -

**Cut. It. Out.**

Even Vanessa **-nope!-** hadn't been able to deal. She'd known him pretty damn thoroughly, hadn't she? But in the end couldn't hang with his newer, darker side or his anger and plans for vengeance when he learned that Weapon X was still trafficking. She'd called him obsessed, and then she'd bailed. Shouldn't she have understood?! They'd kidnapped her to bait him! Would have killed her and -

"Wade?"

Gwen's smooth voice sliced through his escalating thoughts.

"Huh?" he grunted stupidly, hoping that she hadn't been trying to talk for long.

She pointed a slim finger past him to the microwave, which was flashing zeros. He hadn't heard it beep.

"You alright?"

"Yup"

He opened up the microwave and snatched up the plate, ignoring the fact that it was too hot in his hand - his skin would be fine in a second. Maybe he should become a waiter...

He batted away her hand reaching for the plate and slid it to her himself. Then he dug into the fridge for the promised hot sauce.

"Thanks."

They shared a fondness for Mexican food, and the appreciation showed on her face. He was sure she'd worked up an appetite on the streets, but he also knew from perusing her kitchen on occasion that she sometimes skimped on her grocery shopping. She had a job, sure, but she had to pay for a New York City apartment and then was something of a penny-pincher. She hadn't grown up with much for most of her life, what with her mom being sick and paying for care on one income. Gwen didn't talk about it a lot, but she said enough that he'd pieced together a pretty clear picture.

He had offered her advice on this topic, of course. He didn't see why she wasn't willing to pillage off of the criminals she turned-in. She was doing good work and definitely wasn't getting paid overtime for her extracurricular efforts. Or, and he liked this idea a even more, he thought she should totally demand a commission paycheck from Tony Stark any time she helped the Avengers. She didn't like that idea, either -plus, she insisted, Stark helped her tweak her outfit(s) for free.

So, whatever, he picked up tacos and shit. He sure as hell didn't work for free.

"Mmm..thanks, Wade," she'd already finished a taco and was forking down some rice and beans.

"Say it again - huskier this time," he requested, leaning onto the counter.

She let herself laugh, clearly feeling content, and he let it wash over him. Banter and annoyance was fun, but she was actually relaxed and he liked that, too.

"Thanks Wade," she did repeat, dropping her voice an octave.

It wasn't quite the way she actually sounded in bed, but the effort was there. **B+**.

"Ohhh," he gave a theatrical shudder.

She smiled again.

"Thanks Wade," this attempt was slower and silkier and yet also missed the mark a bit.

Still, his eyes crinkled at her playfulness.

"Careful, baby girl. If everything you say is directed straight to my dick I might want to cash in my favor early," he crooned. "Teach you a lesson for interrupting me."

**Oh yeaaah, the favor.**

Gwen was still smiling a bit and cocked a brow at him.

"Think you could? Teach me a lesson, I mean..."

Oh, the shudder in his spine was real that time. She was daring him. Daring? Him?

**She sure is**.

"Don't tease, Blondie."

There was a hint of a growl in his warning, and the air seemed to shift around them. Something tickled, just faintly, at the back of Gwen's neck saying she might want to stop, that she couldn't be sure this was fun and games.

She had interrupted him, after all.

She had certainly caught him up to no good before. However, this had usually only happened at times he already knew she was there and feasibly should have expected some interference. This time she had shown up unannounced and taken over. Maybe ...maybe they needed to talk about that?

But that felt heavy and she needed some more sustenance first.

"I would never," she quipped carelessly to test the waters.

"Uh-huh..."

He continued to watch her so she scooped up a taco and handed it to him. Wade took it, because of course he did, and downed it.

The moment of wariness passed from Gwen's face, which was just as well. He certainly didn't want her to be scared, but if she was going to dangle dares around to see if he wanted to play ...then he was gonna play.

"...you redecorated."

He set aside the beer he'd been washing down the taco with and followed her line of sight. She was apparently slowing down a bit on the food and was lazily looking around, and he knew what she'd seen.

"Yeah, I'm fancy like that..." he tugged his mask back down over his mouth and chin.

It was an unnecessarily large photo of dogs playing poker that he'd hung up on the other side of the living room by the sliding door. He had some plans to replace the doggy faces with cut-outs of the Avengers or some politicians or some shit so he wouldn't be quite so cliche, but he hadn't done it yet.

But he knew full well she didn't care if it was a Monet -okay, she might care about that in case he'd stolen it - or a corny poster, or a naked Jenna Jameson -well, okay, she might not be into that... but wouldn't it be hot if she was? **Yup!**

No, she just knew that it was covering a bloodstain that he'd never fully been able to clean.

He'd been pretty low when he'd moved out of the apartment he and Vanessa had shared, and so what if he had blown his brain out a couple times. It had stopped him thinking about it for a while, hadn't it? But Gwen wasn't a fan. He'd already gotten it wiped up as much as he could and just told her to think of the blotch as a reminder that he could come back from serious damage. She'd stopped bringing it up since it agitated him, but she also never sat on that side of the room.

And then last week he'd been eating Pad Thai and staring at it, and he thought maybe it really was morbid enough to be bad for him. He could get his twisted kicks somewhere else; this was maybe just a reminder of Vanessa that he didn't need.

So he'd made an impulse purchase. No regrets so far.

"I like it," she chirped.

"I have exquisite taste in art."

Grinning, she twisted back around to polish off some more rice.

"Do you play poker?"

"Strip poker," he leered.

He only earned an eye roll for that.

"Used to play a bit," he shrugged a broad shoulder. "Kindda helped pass the time back in the Army."

Gwen paused, her full fork suspended over her plate. He never talked much about that time in his life, so he wasn't surprised he caught her off-guard. Rather than extrapolate, he hooked a finger under her hand and guided it towards her mouth.

"Sorry for gawking," she snorted at herself.

He waved the comment away carelessly and shuffled over to his old school boombox - because hell yeah - on top of his fridge to click it on. 'Boombastic' blared from the speakers, but he caught Gwen's flinch and dialed it down.

Enhanced hearing. Right.

"Now this is music to twerk to," he popped his ass a bit.

"Is it, though?" Gwen laughed.

"Hey, this is good shit. Shaggy at his best," Wade lectured her.

"I didn't say it wasn't," Gwen held up innocent hands before grabbing her last taco.

Indeed, she was bopping a bit to the music soon enough and mouthing some words. Good; she didn't need a full-on education. He continued his dancing in the kitchen, enjoying the time warp back to the 90's. **Simpler times**.

"Hold up. What's the math?" he froze himself. "You were alive when this came out, right?"

"What year?"

"...'95?"

"Yup."

He made a show of wiping fake sweat off his brow as if relieved, then continued his solo dance.

"And if I hadn't been?" Gwen smirked. "No more touching?"

"Oho, there's veeeery few things that could keep me from touching you," he assured her.

He grew closer without missing a step.

"...you're actually pretty good at that."

"Pfff; you ain't seen nothing..."

He grabbed the seat of her stool and gave a sharp tug so the seat slid out away from the counter. Then he twisted her in his direction.

The lap dance that ensued was enthusiastic if slightly marred by the height of the stool.

"My turn!" Wade cheered at the end of the song. "I love En Vogue! Total inspiration for Destiny's Child, ya know?"

He tugged Gwen from her seat and stole her perch.

"And this works ...how?" she eyed the stool's height.

"You're acrobatic - figure it out," he clasped his hands behind his head to wait.

"C'mon," she jerked her chin at the couch.

She was blushing but was being an awfully good sport, so he vaulted the couch rather than heckle. He kicked his cluttered coffee table out of the way and sat, legs spread wide, to get comfortable.

**Give it to me, baby.**

Gwen came around the couch smiling but looking unsure, and if he hadn't already been sporting a bit of a hard-on he would've been then.

But he did take a little pity.

**Yeah - teach her.**

He crooked a finger at her and then wiggled his fingers for her to take his hand. He tugged her between his legs and turned her around. His hands skimmed her hips and guided them to sway back and forth to the slower beat.

She perhaps derived some courage from his help and swiftly took over. If she wasn't a good dancer he didn't much care, more concerned with tracking each slow roll of her body and trying to get a step ahead of her teasing. She leaned in only to dip away if he reached for her. There had most definitely been more touching during his own lap dance.

**More, more, more.**

When he thought he'd exhibited enough patience - a couple minutes was good enough, right? - he pulled her into his lap to grind directly against her ass.

"I've never been to a strip club, but I don't think this is allowed," Gwen huffed.

"Never?" he momentarily froze.

Humor danced in her eyes when she glanced over her shoulder to shake her head.

"Huh ...well, yes, this is exactly how it works," he fibbed freely and leaned back to pillow his head on the back of the cushions. "Juuust ...like that," he groaned.

"Hmmm," a content sigh escaped her and her hands squeezed his thighs where she'd braced herself.

Wade lifted a hand into her hair to pull back so she'd fall against him languidly, but he could still work her hips against him at his leisure so long as she kept her back arched just ...like...that.

He growled happily, his sweatpants hiding nothing.

"Somehow I'm sure you're lying," she murmured.

And now her voice was that right kind of husky.

"Gonna have to take my word for it, Blondie," he teased, turning his face into her neck so the leather of his mask scraped along the tender skin. "Unless you wanna make me stop ..."

Gwen paused and eased back against him. The safe word he brought up from time to time flashed to mind, but she didn't think that was what he meant. He had only just made jokes about teaching her a lesson...

"Would you ...like that? Ya know ...me trying to stop you?"

Wade froze, too, because the question felt like a test. Admiral Ackbar may as well have been in the room screaming: "It's a trap!"

"I don't actually wanna fight you - or force you," he felt compelled to add, and he loosened his hold on her completely incase she wanted some distance from this. "But ...I like to play. Games are fun."

Gwen did sit up straighter, but she stayed on his lap. It took her a beat or two, but when she looked over her shoulder it was with a smirk and a mischievous slant to her brow. She looked like fucking sin.

A dare. Again?

**Yesssss.**

She sprung to her feet and turned to face him. She'd been able to take advantage of a (mostly) quiet night to swing around to her content, she'd been fed, and she finally felt good just by being here with him. If there was a promise of more, then, sure, she could probably play.

Surprisingly, it being a game didn't negate a small spike of adrenaline.

"Rules?"

Wade shrugged.

"Alright," she stared down at him. "Is that how you're gonna catch me, Wade?"

The challenge brought him straight to his feet. He wasn't going to lounge on his ass if Gwen was ready to go. He made an immediate swipe for her that she nimbly dodged. Then she leapt onto the wall near the new poster and then hopped over the armchair so that was between them.

"Fuck."

His apartment didn't leave a plethora of spare space, but she could use every inch there was. He was quick, too, though, and his energy had not all been spent tonight- he could channel that restless aggression into this challenge.

He was around the chair in a flash, but Gwen took to the ceiling.

He jumped and caught her elbow to pull her down when she tried to skitter overhead, but instead he found himself suspended in place. He grunted in annoyance and gave a heave, causing them both to fall to the floor. Whether her sticky digits couldn't hold them both, her elbow had been giving out, or she simply didn't want to bust-out the drywall ...he wasn't sure. The physical integrity of his apartment likely thanked her but, then again, he would probably never get his security deposit back on this place.

**Focus up.**

Gwen had already swiveled around, so he rose to his knees, caught her waist, and used his weight to try to press her back down. Her hands clamped onto his, but then she paused for a beat...

"Do whattcha wanna do, Blondie," he gave her an encouraging little shake.

Her shoulders moved in a huff that he interpreted as a laugh, so he pressed his weight down onto her shoulder gain. This time she resisted it and then a sharp punch to his clasped hands forced them apart. She was out of his grasp quickly enough that he stumbled forward.

He was equal parts annoyed and proud, and he loved it.

**We can actually play!**

And how often was that the case?

He chased her to the kitchen, where they rounded the counter a couple times. That was so straight out of a RomCom that he had to break the script and launched himself over the island, heedless that some things fell aside.

She leapt up to crouch on the fridge, a threatening hand hovering over his beloved boom-box while she smirked.

"Don't you dare," he pointed sternly at her.

There was no need to bring Salt & Peppa into this.

Gwen snorted and shoved herself off to dive back over the counter and tuck into a roll in the living room. He clocked her movement for the door and raced after her. He made a dive of his own and caught her shirt fully enough to unbalance her and pull her back to the floor.

As long as he could keep her within arms reach they could stay on an even field. She was scrappy and strong, but he was the more experienced fighter; hell, he'd been helping her to improve her technique up on his building's roof plenty of times. He could tell that she was holding back with her more highly enhanced strength - which felt fair rather than full-on condescending - and without that he did have an advantage in close quarters.

But she was flexible, and she knew how to spar well without doing real damage since she'd been training with the Avengers, not just him. Plus, he was sure that she suspected he wasn't quite willing to truly put every bit of his own strength into this, her healing abilities be damned.

So they scrambled around on the floor, and it wasn't sexual on the surface ...except that it also was.

**OhYeahItTotallyIs!**

Some part of his primal brain was firing on all cylinders and was 110% into this **\- Conquer, take! Earn it! **The other part of his brain still working was relieved that a small smile donned her face even as she grunted and jabbed at the arm he was balanced on.

As his equilibrium shifted, she extended a hand and shot a web out toward the wall so she could yank herself away.

"Shiiit," he cursed his failure to expect that move and scrambled to his feet so he could chase her toward the hall.

She glanced over her shoulder to see him in hot pursuit, and a laugh bubbled out of her.

Had he died and somehow gone to heaven without realizing?

**Don't even mind!**

She slid to a stop in the doorway to his bedroom, and the abrupt shift brought him to a stop, too, mildly alarmed.

But she smirked.

"You left a window open, Wilson."

Fuck.

That.

He launched forward in a fit of speed, throwing himself into his room. She danced away from his sweeping hand to hop onto the wall, but he saw what was happening as she re-angled her body. He kept moving, and when she made a jump for the window he snatched her out of the air. All he had to do then was let her momentum work for him so he could throw her bodily to the bed. She bounced slightly on the mattress before scooting up toward the pillows. He was surprised the frame didn't creak or crack in protest, but he wouldn't have cared if it had. He was painfully hard by now and moved straight forward to prove it.

"Still goin' for it?"

He planted a knee on the bed and clamped a tight hand around her ankle. Gwen shook her head, panting lightly.

"So I win?"

She scowled, apparently only half ready to concede, so he pulled her down the bed by her ankle until she was flat on her back again.

"I win?" he checked again after crawling fully on top of her.

Gwen gave a nod and reached for his mask. Wade reeled back but did lift his mask himself, though only enough to uncover his mouth. She pulled him down to her immediately, and he was happy to kiss her back but was also shimmying off her leggings and underwear without hesitation.

"Best foreplay ever," he panted when he parted from her to pull back and throw away her bottoms.

He moved next to shuck his own clothes. This was exceedingly simple since he was going commando, which, honestly, he did as much as possible.

"You ready? Tell me your ready..."

Wade spat in his hand to rub along his length. Gwen couldn't say she found that super appealing, but her body was also thrumming with excitement and, yeah, she didn't want to wait and risk letting that feeling fade.

"Mmhmm," she confirmed with a nod and reached for him, but he just sat back on his knees between her legs and hiked her up to him. "Ohhh..."

Wade wasn't a small man, and all of his skin was uneven. She'd never told him she enjoyed that aspect of his penis because she wasn't positive he would appreciate it, but it brought extra pleasure to the stretch of him. On second thought, maybe he would take the compliment to the other extreme and commission a mold of his dick into a line of sex toys. That sounded very Deadpoool-esque.

"Wade," she grabbed at the hard planes of his abdomen, her nails scraping.

Wade liked the sensation so close to his groin and thrust harder into it. He let his head tip back as he fucked slowly into her, finally relishing in the relief.

The basest of this thoughts had quieted some, but he had won. She'd conceded to him, which meant she wanted it, too. She wasn't taking charge, now. She'd let go of that. She always gave up to him; all he had to do was ask.

**Yes. Yesss...**

Wade picked up his pace but then paused to pull back and gather up her legs to throw over his shoulders. She was nearly bent in half, but his girl was flexible and didn't have a complaint. She only grunted at the change in position and then moaned long and loud as he continued to move into her this way.

God she opened up so good to him. She made herself vulnerable to him. If he could consume her, he would - and he didn't even really know what that meant. He just knew it was true.

"Fuck, Gwen ...fuck yes," he groaned.

She was tight and she was perfect, and he could do this forever. Was that possible? If it was, he was gonna do it. He was gonna try.

Gwen gasped and panted, letting herself just bask in sensation as much as she could. She wasn't in much position to move except to squeeze at Wade's sides, which just left her to feel.

Feel good.

And she'd been sitting idle in bummer-town for a while now, so this day was a relief. Wade was a relief. Had she really been mad at him earlier that night?

"Wade..."

She wanted to pull him closer, but she couldn't. It was impossible to be more exposed to him, and yet he wasn't close enough.

"Wade..."

She felt too much, and yet still not quite enough. It almost overwhelmed her. But the feel of him inside of her grounded her, the hard, fast pushing and pulling. She was secure there and not actually floating away.

"Wade," she whimpered this time when he leaned in closer.

Her legs stretched to the brink of discomfort, but this, too, grounded her and she relished it.

"You like that, huh? Opening up for me," Wade grunted, and she just nodded in silent response. "So good for me. So good, Gwen..."

He tempered his pace, then, his thrusts still strong but slow and dragging. Gwen squirmed as much as she could to protest the loss of friction.

"I'm gonna stay right here; I could die happy right here...fuck..."

Gwen blinked and tried to focus on that, but she couldn't quite. She felt like he was saying important things, but she too concerned with the way her heart was thrumming too fast compared to his slow thrusts, and did he even know what he was doing to her? She felt a moment of panic when tears pricked at the backs of her eyes.

Not bad tears, she thought. Overwhelmed, overstimulated, relieved tears. Tears nonetheless, and the vulnerability of that alarmed her. She reached for Wade's mask, but he managed to catch her wrist first.

"Please," she gasped. "Please?"

It was too much, and she couldn't check in with him - not really- if she couldn't see him. He was hard to read anyway, but she needed to see him. He released her wrist without tossing her hand away, so she squeezed her fingers into the thick fabric and pulled it from his head. He wouldn't look at her right way - he never did - but she rubbed his jaw and neck until he did, still pressing in and out of her in a deliberately slow fashion.

Not enough.

Too much.

His eyes were cautious, as usual when he was exposed. He was strong but vulnerable, too, and somehow that relaxed her.

"Faster," she plead.

**Oh, I can do that.**

Wade braced himself a little better and tilted his shoulders forward just a bit further to extend her legs straighter. She moaned and bracketed her hands to either side of his neck, but she gave no painful complaint. And, shit, that was hot. Could he turn her inside out completely? Not for the first time, a litany of possible sexual positions danced across his mind's eye, spurring him on.

"Ah...!"

There wasn't pain in her face, so he ducked in to latch his mouth to her neck. He could smother his own groans there and yet hear her moaning and gasping ...then a small shout that almost sounded surprised but was satisfaction ringing in his years.

**Yesyesyesyesyes...**

...

Gwen winced when Wade gathered himself together enough to push himself back, which made him pause.

"You good?"

"Just stiff," she nodded, voice soft.

So he eased back more carefully, letting her leg muscles move slowly back into a relaxed position.

"Super hot, Blondie," he complimented, still kneeling between her thighs with her knees now draped over his elbows.

"Oh yeah?" her grin was sluggish and her eyes half-lidded.

"Oh yeah," he confirmed lecherously.

And since she wasn't trying to move him out of her way to shake her legs out yet, he palmed her thighs to move them around as his leisure. Slowly, in case it was painful, he lifted them up a bit and then pressed them out into the splits. She only adjusted her pelvis but didn't protest or flinch. She just watched him lazily and was slightly amused judging by the quirk in the corner of her mouth. She wasn't even protesting how exposed this made her, that's how content and blissed-out she still was. Then again, he supposed there was no part of her that he hadn't already seen.

"Damn..." he praised.

"So if I win next time, do I get to force you into the splits?"

He internally resented the word force since she had moved so pliably and willingly, but he knew what she meant.

"You wanna fuck me like this?" he rutted lightly against her and then slowly slowly let go of her legs. "I'll walk to you to the sex toy store myself..." he promised and dropped onto his elbows above her.

He didn't particularly desire the idea, but if she had it in her mind it was ...worth exploring with her. She had so far been willing to let him fuck into her every which way he wanted, and a certain branch of logic suggested he could try to return the favor.

But she visibly balked.

"I didn't mean that ...I'm sure I could find a more traditional way to enjoy a victory," she smirked and lifted her head a fraction to catch his lips.

"Traditional. Boring," he retreated just enough to quip, though his asshole unclenched in gratitude.

"...are you into that?" Gwen dropped her head back down.

She merely sounded curious.

"Getting railed? ...nah, not as much as you are," he smirked and rolled his hips against her again. "I mean, I know there's pleasure down that road ...but ...also some discomfort. Not really my shtick."

He could see some wheels turning in Gwen's little spider head, but she didn't seem too concerned and apparently had no further questions. A few more quiet moments of just breathing and quiet touching passed before she patted his shoulder and pushed lightly so he'd move to the side. She rose, and Wade watched carefully as she stood and shifted her hips around and shook-out her legs.

"All good? Need a massage?"

That could quickly lead to another round, but it wasn't like he was going to complain.

"I could always use a massage," Gwen grinned over her shoulder yet again that night. "But I'm good ...a little sore but it'll go away."

That's right. She didn't heal up as quickly as him -thank you very much - but faster than average and more than adequate.

"Sorry not sorry, baby doll."

He flopped onto his back while she disappeared down the hall. She was gone a little longer than he expected, but he racked his brain about any troubling messes he might've left in there and came up blank. He was about to sit up when she came padding back in, loose tank top and sports bra still in place. Hindsight told him he should've gotten those off, but what-the-fuck-ever; he'd been far too horny.

Gwen crawled back onto the bed and curled herself around his side, resting her head on his chest. She wasn't always quiet this cuddly, but he didn't question it. She was warm, which meant he didn't have to think about moving to fetch a blanket.

"Wade, you awake?" Gwen ventured after a bit.

His breathing was even enough that she couldn't be sure.

"Yup. Ready for another go so soon?"

"I was just wondering," she shoved herself up onto her elbow, and Wade went perfectly still under her like he was prepared for a blow.

"Do we need to talk about earlier? At the dog fighting thing, I mean..."

"...is this about me smacking your ass?" he whined.

"No ...although I'm not sure how I felt about that," she remembered.

"Great; glad I reminded you - damn it. Look it's not like I'd compromise you in front of other people. He was more focused in-"

"I know," Gwen snickered. "And, no, I meant that I interrupted you. I took over and stopped you..."

"Uh-huh ...and?"

"And that's it. Were you mad?"

"Oh, pfff," he dismissed and tucked one hand behind his head while the other played with her hair. "No. I don't mind you being bossy."

Gwen's eyes searched his face, and he itched for his mask but ignored the impulse. He'd already given in to its removal for the night and he'd pretend it was just fine.

"I mean it, Blondie," he tugged a lock of her hair to try to get her to lay back down. "You stay your moral little self and try to tell me what's what out there as long as I can be in charge when we're naked, kapishe? ...aw, hell, who am I kidding? You can boss me then, too, if you entice me," he winked.

"I was being serious," Gwen sighed because she wasn't entirely convinced.

Sure about the naked bart; he did seem to find it titillating when she got eager or pushy and he'd made a dominatrix joke or two about her suit that might have been half-true. On the whole, however, he did not like to be told what to do. He was much more apt to buck tradition or simply do the opposite of what was wanted. He did trust her, though ...so perhaps he didn't mind her lead. At least not if his personal stakes were low.

"Me, too," he flipped back at her.

Was promptly rested his eyes shut but didn't feel her move, so he knew she was still watching him in the dim light. He peeked an eye open to confirm this and sighed.

"Gwen, I don't care if you don't want to kill people. I mean, it would kindda be hot if you did," he paused to consider, "but who gives a shit? I wouldn't bat an eye if that guy were dead, but I'm not crying that he's alive, either. I'm good with my own rules cuz I don't give a fuck. If you wanna try to convert me and save my soul ...that's sweet of you. Good luck, though."

"Don't say that ..."

She'd seen it, that when it came down to it he was one of the good guys. Did he take things to far? Sure. He'd run right up to the line, kick some dirt at it, and then cross it if he so pleased. But she also didn't consider him to be one of the criminals she needed to web-up and turn over to the cops. Maybe that was a self-serving distinction. Sure she'd also seen his ugly and his twisted - his crazy, as he would say- but that didn't negate it all. Of course it did overshadow a lot of things...

"Ugh," he protested as always and then flinched when she pinched him. "What's it matter? I'm not headed for damnation or pearly gates either way."

Gwen didn't have a retort for that.

"Too morbid?" he checked when she did finally relax and shift against him to lay her head back on his chest.

"No," she answered a little too quickly. "It's not like I want you to die..."

She just didn't like the loneliness of his statement either.

"You just jealous I'm gonna stay young and bright forever?" he parried away from danger.

Gwen snorted. **Success**.

"Don't worry - I'll still rock your world when you're white and wrinkly. I don't have a lot of scruples."

"That could take a while," he felt her shrug against him. "I don't heal like you but Bruce thinks my expedited healing could slow my aging."

"Noiceeee," he drawled, then asked the doozy. "Does he think you can die?"

He wasn't sure how he hoped she would answer.

Her shoulder moved gain.

"Hard to say when there's only one way to know for sure, but Bruce is pretty sure I would ...that I'd regenerate damage too slow if it was too serious..."

"...so just me and old Wolverine in the end..."

"Maybe more," Gwen pointed out helpfully.

"Eh, I'd hate to be stuck with a real asshole. New people are the worst."

"Hmmm..."

Gwen hadn't meant to spark this particular conversation. She didn't want to picture Wade in a post-apocalypse all alone, though maybe some zombie would amuse him ...

She shoved the thought away and tried to rest, focusing on his heartbeat under her ear and Wade humming alone to 'Waterfalls,' which they could still hear from the radio down the hall.

* * *

_Hope we all enjoyed :)_

_Drop a review. Trying to decide if chaps are too long? I actually have many chapters written for this fic because the stories just kept running with me ...and they're all a longer than chapters I usually right. I can do some rearranging but also think they're broken up well the way they are currently. _


	4. Daddy Issues, Pt 1

**Daddy Issues, Pt. 1**

Gwen wasn't wholly sure why she was getting dressed-up when there wasn't actually anyone to impress.

Maybe because it felt respectful.

Maybe because getting ready kept her busy and distracted.

Whatever the case, she'd curled the blonde hair that hovered over her shoulders, and she had on a bit more make-up than usual. Even though it was stupid; even though it didn't really matter.

It mattered.

She blinked at her reflection a few more moments in the mirror, where she stood in a bra and underwear. She dusted fingers over a splotchy bruise over her ribs, which was still a little sensitive but was already fading and would probably be gone by the time she went to bed. Things had been a little rough the night before, and she'd stayed out longer than usual. She had almost stopped by Wade's to see if he was home _-there were a number of other things he might be up to at 2:00am that she didn't want to consider - _but had decided against it on the way over.

Gwen had ultimately wanted to be alone.

She knew she was being a wallowing asshole, but she'd embraced it for the night and stayed home tired and sore and sad.

She turned from the mirror and plucked the black pants from her bed to step into and shimmy on. There was a dress tossed on the end of her bed, too, though she'd decide to leave it. She didn't wear dresses all that often, and her dad had never seemed to know what to do with her when she wanted to embrace her more girly side anyway. Pants and flats would suit just fine.

Not that she was sure that he was actually "watching over her" or that visiting his grave to "talk" to him even made any sense whatsoever. But it did feel ...right. Sad but also nice at the same time.

She did like the thought of him watching her and knowing her though. Like maybe it would make up for the way she'd been kind of an asshole after her mom died. Like maybe he'd see her and understand what her secrecy and sneaking had been about. Like he'd see her allegiances and how she spent her nights and be proud of how she'd pulled herself together.

Her phone pinged while she was reaching for her shirt, and she almost ignored it.

She had been screening contact attempts from friends. Well-meaning friends who knew the anniversary of her dad's death because they cared about her and they'd cared for him, too.

So she picked up her phone because she felt bad for being reclusive. Even if she assured Mary Jane that she didn't need company, the other girl would understand and kindly let her be like she had last year. Or maybe she and Betty would show up at her apartment anyway, like the year before that, but they'd only come for a hug and to drop off some food. She didn't have to all-out hide -_melodramatic much?_

But it wasn't either of her oldest friends shooting her a supportive text. **'STARK'** lit the screen when she tapped it.

...did _he_ know what today was? That probably shouldn't be shocking.

But the text she opened just said: **'Tower.'**

Shit.

Right now? Why? Was New York really going to fall to pieces _today_?

Or maybe they wanted her to hop on a jet with them for some even bigger issue ...that happened now and again and was exhilarating _(not to mention still flattering to nab an invite). _

But right now?

She wanted to stamp her feet childishly, but the impulse was fleeting. Morbid as it may be, her dad wasn't going anywhere.

If he had been there, he would've understood. Of all people, the man who'd pulled long shifts at the precinct, missed tournaments and teachers conferences for work, and who'd come home after particularly bad shifts just to sit down and immediately fall asleep even if she wanted help with homework ..._he_ would get this.

While she shucked her dress pants and scrambled into her suit, she realized life had really come full circle.

Only she crawled out of windows instead of driving squad cars.

She made good time to Avengers Tower, scaling the glass sides by shooting webs progressively higher and leaping upwards-_she found crawling the whole thing more tiring._ She then nimbly hopped the railing of Stark's penthouse patio, as this was the entrance that she found garnered the least attention.

Gwen came and went fairly often at the tower, though not as much as she once had. If it wasn't immediately Avengers related she'd come through the front doors like a normal citizen. Otherwise she had permission to enter this way to avoid waiting on elevators.

She thought she'd died and gone to heaven back when Stark had first started granting her these liberties. She had idolized him from a young age like any budding nerd, always tuning-out her dad's grumblings about his pomposity. When she'd developed her abilities _\- thank you field trip to labs where test subjects clearly weren't tracked closely enough_ -she'd devoted even more attention to him.

These days, she is incredibly grateful to him, and she knows damn well she owes him. Stark had helped her immeasurably with her suits. She never would have managed the updates she had now without him, and that had saved her a lot of pain ...maybe even saved her life. She would always be in his debt for that. Plus, he had kept her secrets when he first found her, and he really had given her some good advice when she was a bit younger and a lot more reckless and angry. He'd been condescending, about it, sure, but the right content had been there, and she'd needed to hear it.

But ...she had tamped-down her hero worship over time. She wasn't stupid, and she knew no one could live up on a pedestal like that forever - _not even the famous Iron Man_. So she wasn't mad or anything, not really. Real life just wasn't fantasy.

Tony Stark was a good man, but he was a little too smart for his own good and his ego showed it. He was brilliant and powerful and hardly anyone told him no. He'd seen too much and done too much, so to hell with it. He probably deserved the chip on his shoulder. But all of that genius allowed him tunnel-vision, which might be why he still tended to think he could micro-manage her. He'd seemed to miss that Gwen had been holding down her Spider Woman gig for years now. She'd grown up and could make her own decisions without him.

But she was grateful. Definitely grateful.

She would -_ and did_ \- drop everything to help him and the team.

It was just that she had come to understand the reality of him now, and she accepted it. Deep respect without idolization was possible.

Gwen padded across the sleek balcony patio toward the tinted, automatic doors that would lead inside. She hoped she wouldn't startle Pepper by letting herself in, but she knew that JARVIS would tell her where to meet everyone so she'd only be there a moment.

However, when the glass doors slid open she saw she didn't have to ask the trusted A.I anything. Most of the crew was gathered right there in front of her. Tony Stark looked perfectly at ease, as did Steve Rogers, Agents Barton and Romanoff, and also a man she's never spoken to but has seen: the recently found and re-homed Winter Soldier.

She stopped near the portable drink cart by the doors that she knew for a fact was often put to use during get-togethers out on the patio. She knew because she had been invited to such gatherings. And, yes, partying with The Avengers was still a supper cool reality that sometimes made her laugh and pinch herself ..._but what the fuck_.

"What's going on?" Gwen took in the room and tugged off her mask, her breathing just a little uneven from the climb.

She saw Natasha cock her head curiously but thought nothing of it. She was busy trying to figure out why she'd been summoned without explanation if there didn't seem to be an emergency.

"Good of you to join. Want a drink?" Tony offered, noting where she now stood.

"No."

"Fine," he held up hands in mock-surrender at her clipped response.

"...did I miss something?" she scanned the room again and then reached into the mesh, double-lined pocket at her thigh for her phone.

Nope, there was no further information in the text that she'd missed.

"Yeah, the proper dress code," he continued, clearly somewhat amused.

"We just wanted a hand," Steve interceded.

"Oh...okay..."

"Yeah, come on and get comfy," Clint suggested.

He was slouched lazily on the couch, no tension or alarm anywhere to be seen. Whatever they wanted clearly wasn't that big of a deal.

"I'm good," she insisted, voice still clipped and annoyed.

She felt like she was being placated; was bad news coming? And why was Mr. Winter Soldier just standing around staring? What were they all doing?

"We didn't mean to put you on-guard; everyone's fine," Steve continued, verifying what she was already figuring out herself. "We just wanted some help around here. We thought maybe you could train with Bucky."

He gestured to his silent friend. Old friends, she'd been informed. _Real_ old. Sergeant James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes. Right. She'd been downloaded.

"What?"

"We've got a lot going on still tracking Hydra personnel and artifacts. Thor's even coming back soon," he sighed. "He's," -he glanced at his pal, who wasn't bothering to speak up himself just yet -"hesitant to join-in on all this right now...and you're one of the few people actually strong enough to train with him..."

"Which is a statement I don't resent at all," Clint droned sarcastically from his seat.

_Captain America was calling her strong!_ That stroked her own ego nicely.

Except that it also fell flat.

"I'm sorry; I'm sure you're nice," she waved a hand at the man in question, then turned back to Steve with narrowed eyes. "Is this a babysitting gig?"

"No," Steve answered.

But Tony said "yes" at the same time.

"Tony," Steve groaned.

"What?" he threw his hands up. "Barnes isn't ready to return to the big leagues again yet, but we also don't want to leave him alone to his own devices all the time ... ..someone's gotta keep him company."

"I can't believe I came here for this..."

She wouldn't cry there. Nope.

Sure wouldn't.

"I'm sorry; were you busy with your second rate newspaper?"

This was one of Tony's favorite gripes, for he couldn't fathom why she'd declined to work for Stark Industries and was, quote, squandering her potential instead.

"Jesus, Stark," Clint slumped further into the couch to settle-in for the usual bickering.

Natasha, as per, was a bit more attentive.

"Where were you going today, Gwen?" her smooth voice slid into the argument.

She'd already assessed the younger woman's appearance, and saw that even though her mask had toussled up her curled hair and marred her make-up job, she'd clearly put more energy into her appearance than usual for something (probably) other than shits and giggles.

"Nowhere."

The way her back went rigid belied this statement, but Natasha just gazed steadily at her. She could wait her out; she'd gotten the truth from more well-trained individuals.

"A date?" Tony laughed, though he tried to stifle it and waved his hands in apology. "Sorry we interrupted. Sorry."

Gwen's blue eyes tore from the red-headed spy to glare at Stark.

"Bye"

"No," he chuckled as she turned. "Stay for that drink. We owe you..."

He had drawn nearer and was reaching for tumblers on the shelves next to her. She shot her hand out to cover the glass he was going for before he even laid a hand on it.

"I already said no."

He rose an unamused eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, covering the Black Sabbath t-shirt. He was the picture of unimpressed, and not that long ago this would've crushed her. That's not what she felt just now, though.

"You sure about that, kid?" his voice was more brusque and business now. "Seems like you could stand to unwind..."

"Jeeze..."

"Maybe you've been staring down back alleys and mom n' pop shops a little too lo-"

"And what the _fuck_ is so wrong with that?" she shouted him down and kicked the drink cart in front of her out of the way hard enough that it slammed into the wall and broke, most of its contents crashing to the floor.

The room shifted into attention while glass tinkled to the floor, and Gwen knew immediately that she should be embarrassed ...but she wasn't. That had felt **good**.

And she wasn't specifically _trying_ to scare Stark, but she had to give him credit for not stepping back or even flinching. His only visible response was to tick his chin up a little higher. A little haughtier.

"Trust me, I know you're working on global peace level shit and it's amazing; don't I come _every_ time you call?" she thrust a finger at _\- but not into_ \- his chest. "And I know everything I do is street-level to you, and a waste of my time ...but it matters. If it's not Hydra or SHIELD or whatever you're cooking up in here, then it's not on your radar. But it matters to me, and I'm pretty sure it matters to parents who can buy groceries for their families because I found their mugger and gave them their money back. And it matters to the lady who didn't get raped last night because I got to her in time. It's not alien technology, I know that, but it's real."

His shoulders lost some tension but Stark otherwise didn't acknowledge that she'd spoken. He didn't scoff or argue back, which, to be honest, she'd been expecting.

"Seriously?" she shrugged out her hands.

This was suddenly anticlimactic, and the adrenaline that had surged with her anger was already fading. Again, she knew she should probably be embarrassed _\- she usually wasn't prone to tantrums._ Today, though, her emotions were raw and right on the surface, and he'd poked.

Always poking and prodding.

He'd wanted her to be friendly neighborhood Spider Woman years ago when it had suited him, but now he didn't see it anymore.

"I think you made your point," he responded, tone now devoid of mockery. "Anything else you wanna break? Pepper said I have too much shit."

His concession sucked the wind out of her proverbial sails. Maybe she did _want _to break more shit, but she wouldn't.

"Sorry about that," she glared at the drink cart as if it had gone all kamikaze completely of its own accord.

The rustling of clothing to her right might have been inaudible to someone else, but she heard it. She also felt the air shift with movement behind her.

Gwen twisted and caught Steve's wrist before he could grab her shoulder. He didn't yank away or continue trying to press forward - _because of course he didn't_ \- but he looked sorry. Worried.

She dropped his arm without attitude.

"See you guys."

"Gwen," Natasha's voice stopped her short of the door's sensors.

Turning, she saw the spy was seated on the same chair arm as if she'd not reacted to anything _\- perhaps she hadn't_. Clint, in contrast, had sat forward and watched her now, too.

Her fingers tightened on her mask, feeling an impulse to hide just like Wade.

"Where were you going?" she asked again.

But Gwen wasn't going to cry there. She'd already decided that.

So she did pull her mask on and walked back out to the patio and scaled the ledge to drop out of sight. The freefall caught the air in her chest, letting her pretend that was why she was holding her breath.

She stopped her descent by webbing a window and then let her momentum carry her into a swing to head home.

"Well," Natasha broke the silence left in the penthouse in the younger woman's wake.

"I'll say," Clint stood and stretched.

"You could've left her alone, Tony," Steve scolded quietly.

"Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious," he snapped and was distracted enough that he didn't acknowledge Clint snort at his easy joke. "JARVIS, do some digging."

"Leave it, Tony," Steve was more exasperated this time.

"No. C'mon - you, too, I guess, RoboCop," Stark waved everyone toward the elevator, passing the now-useless drink cart as he did. "Housekeeping will get that..."

X

When Gwen returned to her room everything was just as she'd left it. She shed her suit and plucked up her dress pants to slide back on while she blinked away tears.

Why did she have to deal with this today? Steve had found Bucky 'Winter Soldier' Barnes weeks and weeks ago - _they could have reached out at any other time_. Hell, she was pretty sure that on an average day she would have jumped at the chance to spar with someone so infamous. She had, of course, seen the footage of him duking it out with Captain America in D.C. She didn't live under a rock; it would have been sweet to face off with him.

But today it was a nuisance at best and an insult at worst.

"Back alleys and mom n' pop shops," Gwen muttered to herself once she was dressed and stomping down the stairs of her apartment building to head back outside.

Stark sat up in his stupid tower -_okay, fine, it was an awesome and advanced tower_ \- but did he ever look out the damn window and realize there were people out there on the streets struggling just to get by? Alien invasions were obviously important, but that wasn't the only threat in the world.

She balled her hands into fists and shoved her way out of her building to find and wave down a taxi. She needed to forget about Stark. He was back in his penthouse, not here. He was not her concern.

The quiet taxi ride sobered Gwen up some. By the time they reached the cemetery she had calmed significantly. Of course that just left her to be sad again, but even that felt more manageable and controllable than her anger had been.

"Thank you ...Dopinder," she spotted the small ID hanging on the rearview mirror when she reached forward to hand the driver some money.

"Of course, Miss. Do enjoy your day."

That was sort of a funny thing to say to someone getting dropped off at a graveyard, but he was just being polite so she muttered a customary "you too" and climbed out.

Gwen knew the way from the road where she'd asked to be dropped off, and the cool breeze was actually quite nice. But it did mean she had her head down and so didn't realize right away that she wasn't the only visitor.

Clad in coats and sweaters against the chill, ginger-haired Mary Jane Watson and Betty Brant, looking chic and expensive like she always did these days, were waiting on the uneven path near her dad's grave stone.

When she realized who it was and why they were clearly there, she teared up.

"Hey, G," Betty stepped right up and pulled her into a hug.

"Hi ...how long have you guys been here?" she checked once she stepped away.

"A bit," Betty answered vaguely, which probably meant quite a while.

"We know you probably wanted to be on your own, so we don't have to stay," MJ explained, looking a little apologetic.

"...no, it's nice," Gwen admitted.

And tears were spilling-over from her eyes, but that was alright. There weren't facades of strength here; hell, these two didn't even know about the other half of her life. They only knew Gwen Stacy, their childhood friend. Betty and MJ had known her from the beginning. They'd known her mom before she was sick, and they'd hung out with her at the Stacy's house and then in their apartment once they'd downsized. Each girl had attended the funerals of both of her parents - _one planned and processed for with hospice workers, the other much more full of numb shock_ \- and cried with her and sat with her ...and, okay, yeah, tried to drink it away with her, too.

MJ held her in a hug, too, rubbing her back lightly, and then they walked closer to George Stacy's grave. They were quiet a while and then swapped a few stories and even laughed, which was therapeutic to Gwen; she hadn't really smiled today. They talked about him busting them trying to sneak out during sleepovers, teaching them a little self defense, picking them up from play practice in his squad car to embarrass them, and then, eventually, to reminiscing about him and her mom together.

Once the tone came back down from quiet giggles and eye rolls, MJ and Betty shuffled away back toward one of the paths snaking around the graveyard. They promised not to leave _\- they wanted to give her a ride home_ \- but they gave her the privacy she'd been looking for earlier.

"Hey dad," Gwen nudged the gravestone with her toe, feeling just a little silly like she always did. "Turns out your right; Stark's a little pompous sometimes," she chuckled humorlessly. "... ...I guess I've gotten myself in some shit..."

That had been her dad's favorite way of minimizing things at work: _"Just some shit, Gwen." _

"It's okay, though ... ...I'm okay ...I think you'd agree..." she frowned thoughtfully.

It wasn't the first time that she'd wondered what he would think of her alternate life. He had never fully approved of Iron Man, for instance. Not because he wasn't grateful for the good he'd done but because he had proved himself ungovernable. _'What if he changes his allegiances, huh; what then? ' 'What about these nut-job copycats he's inspiring? We're all screwed if one of them comes strutting down Broadway.'_

He might've thought the same kinds of things of Spider Woman, but she was also trying to clean up the streets and he would've liked that. He'd grown up in and policed the same city all his life ...she liked to think he'd have appreciated the help.

"It's not easy, though," she murmured. "...but I guess you knew that. I get it, now..."

And she hadn't, before, which was always hard to admit. She had been young, though, so she was sure her dad had understood, that he hadn't really blamed her.

She just blamed herself.

She had been so angry when her mom was sick, and then her powers had popped-up and she'd run off to do her own shit ... ...she hadn't made it any easier on her dad when she could have.

"Sorry," she whispered.

She stuck around a little longer, not really talking aloud but thinking of what life might be like if he was still around. That was a pretty deep hole to dive down _\- for instance, would she ever even have become Spider Woman? - _but she tried to keep it light, thinking about having him and her mom over to her apartment, grabbing lunch with him when she was on break, bugging him for an exclusive interview for the paper...and her mom probably would have egged that on with a laugh. Little things she definitely would have taken for granted.

She hung around until she started to get a little too cold. It was to the point of uncomfortable, and it also made her take pity on her dutiful friends.

"You were right; they're the best," she watched the two other woman chatting some distance away, arms crossed against the chill and shifting from foot to foot.

Her parents had liked them. Her dad liked to joke that it was just because they weren't boys, but he'd had a soft spot for them and always let them make themselves at home with the Stacys and asked after them if he hadn't seen them in a while.

"Are you hungry?" Betty asked once she'd said her goodbyes and come to join the ladies. "Or you wanna go straight home?"

"Food's good; I could eat a horse..." Gwen patted the stomach she had neglected to feed today.

Betty the vegetarian tutted at that.

"Well I want sushi," MJ decided.

Gwen did like sushi, but she also thought briefly of smothered nachos and burritos with Wade. She even wondered about begging off from a nicer meal with the ladies to see if Wade was around so they could lounge around together, but she dismissed that just as quickly.

She didn't see the girls enough as it was, and maybe she spent too much time with Wade, anyway. There were other friendships in his life, after all; she couldn't hole up with him all the time even if she wanted to.

And she didn't want to.

That would be ...too much.

He was just good company.

But so were MJ and Betty.

"Let's go," she approved.

Betty gave the all-clear, too, since she could easily find some options there for herself. They piled in MJ's car and took off to one of her favorite spots, where they reminisced and caught up over a narrow table and modern white plates. They even fit in a cocktail or two. It all turned out to be so painfully normal that Gwen almost didn't want to leave. And they did stay for quite some time, but MJ had her back to her apartment once it had grown dark.

She considered calling it a night, then, but pulled her suit and mask on out of habit anyway. It would be nice to just take a deep breath and look out at the cityscape; she only hoped it would be a quiet night.

A couple hours later, Gwen was sitting on the corner of the roof at Midtown High, dangling her legs lazily over the edge. It had been a quiet night so far, but if the quiet crunch of dirt behind her was any indication, that was going to change.

She knew the gate, though, and wasn't alarmed; she just kept watching the nearby streets.

"You have some hot friends, Blondie," Wade's voice sung across the rooftops.

_That_ did surprise her.

"Huh?" she looked over her shoulder at the red-and-black merc approaching with a pizza box in hand.

"Tall redhead; bodacious chick with the really short hair. Some guys think that's androgynous, but I don't mind. Either of them up for a threesome?"

"Ew ...and what?" she processed what he was saying. "What were you doing today? Were you...at the cemetery? Or Kazu's?"

"I staked-out the cemetery," he confirmed and sat the pizza beside her on the ledge so he could pull the box open.

"You what?" she blinked at him.

He paused in the act of rolling up the bottom of his mask.

"Uh ...was I not supposed to?"

**_Boundaries_****. ****_Riiiight_****. **

"No, I mean it's okay ...I just didn't know..."

"Well it's called being covert, Princess," he went on in pulling his mask up so he could start eating some pineapple and olive pizza. "Help yourself to some grub...anyway, your friends showed up so I figured they had you covered."

"I meant I didn't know you even knew about..."

"Your pops?" he cocked his head curiously. "You've mentioned it and the time of year ...I had to look up the date and where he was, but I know how to google, ya know."

"Wade..."

"Not that I'm a stalker or anything," he defended himself around a mouth full of cheese.

"Wade," she started again and threw a hand over his mouth.

He just continued to chew.

"That was really sweet."

"Ugh," he took a step back in disgust.

"Don't argue with me," she poked hard at the kevlar of his chest.

He grunted and took another large bite.

"Eat up," he gesticulated at the pizza she hadn't touched yet. "If I eat it all on my own, I'll feel like a pig."

"You are a pig," Gwen pointed out and scooped up a slice of her own. "Here," she patted the bricks next to her.

Wade hopped up to take his place next to her, kicking his feet back and forth cheerily as he did so. Gwen scooted toward him so their sides were flush and began plucking the pineapple off of her pizza to place onto what was left of his slice.

"You have to eat your fruit to have a balanced diet," he scolded.

"I'd rather have meat on my pizza"

"Oh I've got some meat for ya," he growled in her direction.

Gwen knocked his shoulder with her own and munched on the black olive pizza while he went on and on about the balance of salty and sweet. She'd heard it before, so she didn't bother to chime in with her preference for classic spicy and cheesy; she just let him go. It was kind of comforting after a hard day

She didn't exactly remember when this thing had become more comfortable than furtive and sneaking over the last year or so. They'd been relieved to reunite and had fell easily back into flirting and fucking around with Weasel at Sister Margaret's. Gwen had half expected Wade to make a move like he had back in the day -_not that she was conceited or anything, but she was older and more put together than she had been back before becoming Spider Woman - _and had been a little relieved with the idea; they trusted each other and it would be a nice stress relief even if he was still reeling over Vanessa. Except he hadn't gone past flirting because he had not wanted her to see him, so she'd had to do some of the pursuing until he was convinced she wasn't pretending or pitying. Only then had he dove-in head first with his typical 110% enthusiasm.

She'd almost had buyers remorse, unsure whether something like this with _Deadpool_ was the least bit wise or sustainable. And maybe it really wasn't, but she trusted him and that went a long way. Maybe she would regret it some day, for he so precariously straddled the line of right and wrong that a strong breeze might blow him the wrong way, but not yet. Today she was happy ...with whatever this was.

She finished her less-than-satisfying slice and then pulled her feet up to sit cross-legged there on the ledge. Wade leaned across her to snag the pizza box back so he could keep eating, and he didn't mind transferring hands when she ducked to rest her head on his shoulder.

"Did baby girl have a long day?" he teased, though he already assumed that it was true - _maybe he should've picked up a pizza he knew she would actually like. _

"Mmhmm ... ... and I missed you," she told him quietly like she wasn't sure if it was precisely true.

But she'd said it.

**_Hells yeah she did ...let's not ruin it. _**

He paused for a beat and then raised his arm to curl her shoulders.

"Guess I shouldda come out at the cemetery, but I didn't know if your friends would be able to hang..."

"Yeah, that probably would've been hard to explain," she sighed, then tensed. "I just mean ...they don't even know about all this," she straightened up and pointed at herself.

"I get it," he tugged her back against him.

Even if those chicks knew their friend was the one swinging between building to fight crime, he was another pill to swallow entirely. He wasn't as well known as her or the Avenger dweebs, but he was fairly infamous, too. Even if he met some of her friends as just plain old Wade Wilson, that brought its own load of shit of scars and explanations. **_No! They don't get to see. _**

In summary, he didn't exactly make great first impressions ...or sometimes second or third or fourths, either.

He was pretty sure the Avenger nerds didn't even know the extent of their relationship. Gwen was much more of a prude than he was himself, so he couldn't see her detailing their escapades . **_Sex-capades, ammi right?!_** He didn't have a problem with that, but he was sure she'd get shit for it.

Can't trust him. **_Not true_**.

Dangerous_. _**_Fair assessment_**_. _

Mercenary. **Well, duh!**

Unpredictable. **_That was true enough, too_**_. _

Point being that she already got these lectures from Tin Man and Co. just by admitting they palled around together from time to time. If they knew the extent of things, they'd probably be worried for her sanity.

Which was something he'd wondered before, too. Goddamn angel that she was, she was out of his league. She might not see it, but he was resigned to the fact that one of these days she'd figure it out and be done fucking around with him. He consoled himself with the fact that she'd probably at least have the grace to feel a little bad about it.

So he was just tucking away any affiliated emotions and hanging on for the ride while it lasted.

"Rude," he muttered when she rose a hand to peel a black olive off of his pizza and nibble it herself.

She didn't respond and twisted where she sat to drape her legs over his knees. He spared a moment to wonder what someone would think if they looked up to see this, but he knew that people were hardly ever paying proper attention to their surroundings.

"Wanna head back to my place when you're done?" Gwen spoke up. "I don't think I've got it in me to stay out too late today..."

"You got it, Spidey, he nodded and shoved the last half of his slice into his mouth.

"It didn't have to be this second," she chortled.

"Shud uf spefidied," he tried around a mouthful, then chewed quickly. "Should've specified," he repeated thickly before catching some cheese trying to escape .

"Gross," Gwen shoved herself away from him and got up.

"I liberated a car in Hells Kitchen to get here; want a ride?" he gallantly offered.

"I've got a ride ...maybe finish that monstrosity on the way over," she turned her nose up at his pizza.

"You're so second-class..."

"Yeah, yeah..."

Gwen did a back handspring off the roof, but Wade has seen the wind-up so he didn't flinch at the action. **_Score._**

X

She beat him back to her place, of course, but then they slid in a movie and bummed around into the night since she was used to being up late and he just didn't sleep much.

She was even more talkative than usual, so he just let her go until she talked herself out. She filled him in a little more about the friends he'd spotted her with, assuring him beyond a doubt that there would be no threesomes. **_Killjoy_**. She even told him about her argument with Iron Douche; she seemed to be regretting it a bit, but he'd assured her that she shouldn't have to feel bad unless she'd thrown him from his balcony. Even then it would be questionable, as far as he was concerned. He had also made a mental note of Stark's sin against her so that he'd remember it the next time he saw the billionaire. **_Might just have to be sooner than later..._**

And then _-oooooh then_ \- she was riding him on her couch. Wade hadn't planned to even sniff in that direction considering the day she'd had, but they had kissed and kissed some more, and then she was straddling him and telling him to take his pants off, so he wasn't going to say no.

**_Wouldn't want to be rude!_**

"What do you want, baby?"

It was pretty clear what she wanted, but he asked because he felt like he should be doing more. Of all the days for her to be on top; he'd have thought that after a bad day she might just want to lay back and get eaten out all night.

**_Ohhhh ...I'll put a pin in that idea..._**

"Just this," she moaned and then ducked-in to kiss him.

Well, then, who was he to complain? So he didn't. He just dug his blunt fingernails into her spine and scratched along her back while she rode him languidly there in her living room. She wasn't talking anymore, so he stayed uncharacteristically quiet even though there was plenty he wanted to say about her hips and her chest and her ...well, he'd just file each thought away for later.

Because it didn't matter right this second ...

"Fuuuuuck," he had trouble staying mum when she was coming atop him.

The way she gasped sent chills down his spine and straight to his dick. He took the initiative, then, to hold her still and fuck up into her a little harder until he groaned and relaxed limply into the cushions, too.

"One of these days," he grunted once he had his breath back and could stand and scoop her up with him. "I'm going to make _you_ carry _me_ to bed..."

"I totally could," she grinned and gave his chin a gentle bite and let her teeth scrape the skin slowly.

Wade snorted.

"Yeah. That's what I'm saying; why am I doing the heavy lifting all the time?" he crawled onto his knees on the bed and dropped forward so he could just immediately nuzzle his head into her chest. "I'm a modern man; I can be carried bridal style over the threshold."

"Anything you want," Gwen sighed, still a little blissed-out.

Wade popped his head up straight away.

"...you know that's the most dangerous thing you could say to me, right? Ow! Spiders aren't supposed to pinch, they bite -ow! Alright, alright, I'm sorry..."

They laid quietly for some time, Gwen's heart slow and steady in his ear. **_That's a nice sound; maybe the nicest. Hard to say..._**

"Move a minute..." Gwen finally asked after some time.

"I'm comfy," Wade complained and turned his face straight down into her chest, this time for cozy rather than sexy reasons.

Gwen tapped-out on his shoulder anyway and gave him a nudge so he would roll off. He flopped to the side and watched her wander anyway into her bathroom. When she reemerged she didn't come straight back to bed; she fetched a t-shirt and then her laptop from the breakfast table before returning to sit against the headboard.

"Late night Amazon shopping? Kindda cliche, I gotta say..."

He hopped up from the bed and took his own bathroom break, though he was happy to remain naked when he came back out.

"C'mon whattcha doin? Good spiders should be sleeping," he hopped back onto the bed to sit beside her.

"I'm not tired..."

"...I'm not going to internalize that to relate it in any way to my sexual prowess," Wade muttered, half to her and half as a reminder to himself.

"Good," Gwen snorted. "You shouldn't. I'm googling myself ..."

"Hottttt!" Wade cheered.

"Cut it out ...I like to keep a beat on what's out there on Spider Woman. Sometimes the Avengers or X-Men, too ... ...and you."

"Well let me know if they're saying anything good about me," Wade requested, though he didn't really care.

He plucked each hand of hers off the computer, then dropped them and rolled down the bed towards her feet to pull the blankets off.

"...do I get to ask what you're doing?" Gwen raise an eyebrow at him but a grin was tugging at her lips.

**_Perfect_**.

"Inspecting," was his unhelpful answer. "How come you have nail polish stashed in the bathroom? You never have nail polish on..."

Gwen laughed.

"Never isn't quite right. I do sometimes..."

"Hardly," he argued back. "So why not? I know you're bendy enough to reach your toes."

Gwen pretended she didn't blush.

"A manicure seems like a waste of time since I would just mess it up working, and I guess I don't wear a lot of sandals to think about my toes..."

Wade huffed and then rolled off of the bed again to go rummage around in the bathroom. He came back with red nail polish.

"Seriously?"

"Uh-huh ...go on. Keep googling all of your friends. Budge up a little, though..."

Gwen tucked up her knees a little bit so her feet could rest further up the bed. Then a perfectly naked Wade Wilson flopped back down, hunkered closer to her feet, and, tongue between his teeth, he began to carefully paint each of her toenails.

"...I wish my phone wasn't in the living room," Gwen peered over the top screen of her computer towards him.

"No selfies," he snapped. "Live in the moment."

So she did.

It was a strange ending to a unfortunate day... and why did she even like it when Wade blew softly on her toes after painting them?

"You sleepy yet, Beauty?" Wade asked when he crawled back up to the head of the bed.

"Nope."

"Find anything good on there?"

"Nah, not much..."

"Alright, gimme ...i'll show you what's actually good out there..." he yanked her computer into his own, still naked, lap.

"I don't really feel like watching porn right now, Wade..."

"Right now? So you're saying that maybe later is fine?" his head ticked up in attention.

"Maybe," she waggled her eyebrows at him.

"..._noted_," he quipped and turned back to the computer. "No porn, then ...just my top favorite youtube videos..."

He caught her surprised look and shrugged.

"What, you don't like getting lost down a deep, dark youtube hole?"

"Of course I do," she shifted toward him to see what it was he was going to choose.

"Good. So me first. Then your turn."

"Sounds fair."


	5. Daddy Issues Pt 2

DADDY ISSUES PT. 2

It was over a week before Gwen dragged herself back to Avenger's Tower. Less because it took her that long to feel bad but because she had a bit of pride to swallow.

She wasn't sorry for what she said, but she'd acted like a bit of a child about it. She did regret that bit. She could have aired grievances with Tony one-on-one or, more importantly, literally any time when she wasn't so emotional. Their worlds overlapped but weren't really the same, and it probably made him a little ignorant not to consider that, but it didn't make him an awful person.

Wade stoutly disagreed, of course, which made her smile. "Shouldda gone even bigger, Blondie." She'd heard-out his plan of infiltration and sabotage -"then he'll have to listen to you!" - for fun and then made sure he understood that was not how she wanted to proceed. He'd shrugged and agreed to put the plan on the back burner.

So, instead, she just strolled into the Tower in civvies this time and made for a lift.

"JARVIS?" Gwen asked when the only other occupant of her elevator stepped off on the 12th floor.

'Yes, Miss Stacy?' the AI's smooth voice greeted.

"Is everyone around?"

Once she asked, all of the buttons on the elevator went dim and the lift began rising a bit faster as JARVIS took her straight up.

'The team is currently on their way back from DC; they will return shortly. You may wait in Mr. Stark's apartment - he won't mind.'

"Okay. Well, actually ...did, um, Bucky" - she hesitated at the name, wondering if that was only for friends - "go with them?"

'He did not. He is currently on the balcony of the level he shares with Captain Rogers,' the AI intuited her next question. 'Shall I redirect you there, instead?'

"Yes, please. Unless ...does he like visitors?"

'He has not had any,' JARVIS reported. 'But he has grown more sociable over time.'

"Ummm...alright. Then, yes," she elected.

'Very well.'

Gwen nervously chewed her lip. She was sure she hadn't made a great first impression with the guy but, hey, maybe that was all the more reason to go up...

When the elevator slid to a stop and quietly opened, it did not look much unlike Stark's place; the only real difference being that it was not as full. Rodgers seemed to have a more minimalist style.

She stepped out onto tile and hesitated while the elevator closed and moved away. JARVIS had said he was outside, but she didn't feel completely welcomed to let herself into this space to go get him. Steve surely wouldn't care, but she didn't know Bucky...

But she wasn't scared, though she supposed if he was mad at having an unexpected visitor she could always jump off the balcony.

That was always a great back-up plan.

Once she moved a little further in, she could see that the man in question was seated on one of the few patio chairs out on their nice-but-smaller-than-Stark's patio. She thought he was asleep, for his head was down, but a few more steps and she saw he was holding a book. Okay, so she was interrupting something, but that probably wasn't dire business.

In total, she didn't even get halfway across the living room before he either heard her or caught movement in the glass. Either way, his head snapped up and immediately found her. He stiffened, but only for a moment until he seemed to process what he was seeing. Or who, rather. His shoulders seemed to relax, and he stood, finger marking his page. Gwen gave a stupid wave and quickened her steps to the door until it slid open.

"Hi," she stepped into the open space this created.

She lingered indecisively since it wouldn't close on her until she committed to the outdoors or retreated back inside.

"Is this an okay time?"

"Sure," he answered quietly. "It's just me and a book," he gestured it in bored fashion.

Gwen cast it a look and caught the title: 'Gone with the Wind.'

"Oh, classic," she nodded, for some reason wanting him to know that she was mature enough to be well-read.

And, okay, she had never actually read that book but she'd seen the movie at some point. She knew it was a classic, so the comment still stood.

"Yeah," he snorted. "It's younger than me... ..."

"Oh ..." Gwen blushed.

She'd probably ruined this attempt at making a better impression. How did she come back from that? Maybe she needed to hop off the balcony anyway; she could try again in another week...

"Just a joke," he assured her, chuckling.

Chuckling at her expense, sure, but at least not looking angry or offended.

"Right, sorry, yeah ..."

"...were you looking for Steve?" he took pity on her, still looking calm for someone who was supposedly unpredictable.

"JARVIS told me the crew was out. I thought I'd come up and apologize anyway - to you, I mean. I shouldn't have drug you into my shit with Tony and called you a babysitting job," she cringed. "I was..."

"Don't worry about it. You probably weren't far off, anyway..."

She wanted to argue him down, but his smirk looked pretty content. Maybe he really was doing well these days. She remembered how worried Steve had been when he and Sam were tracking him down, so this was nice.

"So...do you wanna embrace it? We can go train..." she offered. "I wanna stick around a while, anyway," she added so he wouldn't feel patronized.

His eyebrows lifted a little in surprised, but they quickly narrowed down a bit. He looked her up and down to study her -to size her up.

She got it.

"You afraid to hit a girl, Barnes?"

He blushed this time.

"Steve debriefed me on you ...just kind of hard to see, that's all," he admitted.

"Let's go, then. I have workout gear in the locker room; I'll meet you down there?"

She hopped lightly on her toes and feinted shadowboxing at him.

"Huh?"

Steve had trusted her to do this, and she wanted to honor that. She'd been a little shitty with him, too, but she knew that he wouldn't have bothered her if he knew she was dealing with the anniversary of her dad dying. Hell, he'd lost enough people in his life; he might have even offered to go to the graveyard with her if he knew what was going on. He was known for being unyieldingly - some might say almost annoyingly *cough* Tony *cough*- thoughtful like that.

"Alright," he nodded after a moment or more of thought.

"Cool," she beamed.

"And look..." he started but paused with a small huff. "Don't apologize, alright? Stark told us ...ya know, about your pop."

"Oh..."

"He had JARVIS look some things up," he admitted, looking a little sorry for bringing it up now that he'd already gone and done it.

"Not surprising, I guess ... ...it was all just bad timing..." she shrugged, trying to pretend it was no big deal.

She probably didn't pull it off, but the soldier didn't call her out on it.

"I get that..."

"Thanks ... ...so, meet you down there."

"Uh-huh"

Gwen hung around just long enough to watch him dog-gear a page in his book, and then she took off to head back to the elevator. When she reached the gym floor, she ditched her backpack by the training mats and jogged to the locker room to change.

Sparring was a trip given that Gwen and Bucky both had enhanced strength and quick recovery from both fatigue and well-aimed blows. It had taken a little while for Bucky to really get into it and trust that she truly had the strength to deflect strong blows or recover if she failed to dodge them. Getting there had required her to land a few solid hits so that he believed she could give as good as she got - it seemed that hearing it from Steve was one thing, feeling it was another.

So they carried on whole-heartedly until they were panting hard, at which time they took short breaks before getting back at it.

In the back of her head, Gwen knew she wanted to conserve enough energy for patrol that night, but she was also having fun. It was similar to sparring with Wade or Steve: less need to pull punches and be careful. They could let go a lot more, which gave her a lot of opportunity to learn.

Bucky moved like something else. He was full of brute strength, but there was a lethal grace about everything he did, too.

"Can you teach me that?" Gwen stepped back from him, panting, to signal a break.

He'd grabbed one of the dummy blades made of hard rubber to simulate a knife fight since she was out on the streets so much. She had taken on the fight sans webs, only leaving her with reflex and brute strength ...hence her heavy breathing.

And Gwen didn't carry extraneous weapons, but the way he spun and wielded the blade was pretty sweet. She mostly just wanted to know for novelty ...and maybe to show off the new skill to Wade, too.

"Huh?" he paused.

"I dunno; you're just using that thing like it's a third hand even when you're tossing it ...it's impressive," she complimented while still trying to steady her breathing.

She'd probably need calm breathing and a steady hand to attempt the moves. Although, she did have quick reflexes so maybe she'd be a quick study.

"No."

That stopped her musings.

Gwen took a more focused look at him and saw his face was blank. He'd been fairly concentrated throughout their sparring, naturally, but he'd cracked a few grins and chuckled during short conversation when they took breaks. Now his face was harder than it had ever been thus far.

"Okay," she readily agreed. "No biggy..."

"I just..."

His breathing was heavy, too, but in a different way. It wasn't so much panting as it was ...panic. The hairs on the back of her neck tickled and stood up in warning.

"Don't worry about it," she said a little loudly to cut through whatever it was he was thinking. "You keep your knives; I'll always have my webs... ...Barnes?"

He blinked at that and then slowly nodded.

"...can I see?"

He was still breathing deep and slow through his nose, but he was at least focused, now.

"Sure ...don't get jealous, though," she joked to keep their mood light.

She took a running start across the mats where they were training, leapt onto the top rope of the boxing ring in the corner, and sprung upwards to shoot a web at the high ceiling. Her momentum arched her into a short swing, and then she pulled a Tarzan by swinging from new web to new web to another new web across the gym. She flipped to land atop one of the weight machines and then hopped onto the wall. From there she could launch herself forward to swing once more back toward the mats, where she released herself and tucked into a roll. She then sprung lightly back to her toes a few feet from him.

"Ta-da," she did a fake gymnasts stance to "stick" her finish.

He grinned.

"Even more impressive in person."

"You've been watching the news, hey?" Gwen was blushing again.

"Well, they love you," he nodded.

"Ah, not everyone..."

And that was certainly true. The majority of her vigilante work split the community: some people loved her as a watchful eye who had citizens' backs, and others were suspicious of her for staying so hidden and secretive - which wasn't easy to do in the digital age, thank you very much.

"Enough people do," he reasoned and spun the fake but well-balanced blade in his hand. "I used to teach this shit," he halted the knife and lifted it up for emphasis. "I can't do it again ...not yet."

Gwen didn't fully understand what he meant, but she nodded just the same.

"Okay. No worries. Like I said, I don't carry knives or anything ... ...i just wanted to look cool - call me vain," she joked.

They both started at a creaking noise above them and whirled around to look up, but all was silent even though they waited with baited breath. Gwen strained to listen for something more, but she heard nothing and her unconscious senses weren't trying to tell her anything, either.

"Must've been a fan kicking on or shutting down..." she suggested, eyeing a nearby vent.

Bucky looked suspiciously around the ceiling a little while longer, but when no further noise came he gave a nod.

"Ready, then, old man?" Gwen challenged, trying to make sure the tension between them had passed.

He scoffed and tossed the faux-knife aside. Gwen heard the plates in his metal arm shift, and she knew the soft whining noise the arm then made meant he was winding up power, so she knew the swing was coming from that side even before he threw his body into it. She parried to the side and was able to land a kick to his side that used his leverage against him. Bucky was fast, too, though, so he didn't fall forward and reeled back swiftly.

With that, the round was a go.

And it went on, the only breaks coming when they hopped back for a short breath to circle and eye each other for an opening. They ended up grappling on the ground, which was a frustrating position for Gwen even though she knew it was good practice- she was more in her element when she had some space to work with.

"Ooof," air shot from her lungs with a hit to the ribs, but that didn't get her any pity since Bucky had already figured out he could keep going unless she called Uncle.

They'd made that deal already, and the word did flash through Gwen's mind when she landed flat on her back and saw the flash of his metal arm coming straight down to her face.

"Ho," she grunted and threw her arms up to catch the offending fist in both of her hands.

That meant she was vulnerable to an attack from his other hand, but he seemed more interested in testing whether or not she was actually strong enough to strop his bionic arm for real His face screwed up in concentration, and the mechanics of his arm spun and clicked.

Gwen gritted her teeth as well and but was able to shove him back from her. She felt his body shift to throw more power behind the arm, so she took advantage and quickly spared one hand to punch his flesh-and-bone shoulder that wasn't supporting his weight so he'd careen to the left. She dipped out of the way, kicking his side for good measure to make sure he fell to the side while she rolled away in a more controlled fashion.

A pair of hands clapped nearby, and Gwen wasn't actually surprised to climb to her feet and see Tony and Steve in the room, flanked by Natasha, Clint, Rhodey and Sam Wilson a bit further back by the door. She hadn't seen them or even processed their entrance, but she had clearly felt their presence and subconsciously known they were there.

"Hey."

She was panting again and placed her hands on her hips to stop herself from offering them a lame wave - she didn't particularly like being under group scrutiny.

Tony gave a few more claps.

"Better than the WWE."

Gwen glanced at Bucky, who didn't seem to understand that.

"It's a compliment," she panted in his direction.

He gave a curt nod and moved away to go scoop up the rubber knife and replace it where he found it.

"Lookin' good out there, Spidey," Sam, being constantly the most casual and gregarious, moved fully into the room to come offer her a fist bump. "He kicks my ass."

"I'll kick your ass, too, if you want," she winked.

"I congratulate you and that's how you're gonna do me? Really?" he reeled back as if wounded.

Gwen liked Sam. He was always fun and welcoming, and he excelled at making others comfortable, which she appreciated since she still managed to find herself surprised to be included there some days.

"Yeah, gotta toughen you up," she hit his chest lightly.

"I'm done with you - you're just like the rest of them," he curled his lip at her theatrically. "Sup, man," he clapped Bucky on the shoulder when he neared again.

In the meantime the rest of them had fully entered, as well.

"You're back," Steve smiled, zeroing in to Gwen on his approach.

"Yeah, I'm like a bad penny - I always turn up..."

Sam snorted, though Steve let the reference sail by.

"It's good to see you," he reached with one arm to snag her in a small, brief hug.

"I'm sweaty," she did give him a quick hug around the waist in return but then darted back.

He kept hold of her shoulder to squeeze, anyway.

"I'm sorry," he told her quietly.

"No, you didn't know," she shook her head, tiny ponytail flicking as she did.

"And I'm sorry I didn't know," he amended.

"I don't talk about it much," she shrugged, trying again to take the responsibility off of him.

A guilty Steve Rogers was a strange thing to face.

There was a sad understanding in his face, which she supposed came from facing a lot of loss himself. She dug her bare toes into the mat they stood on, but she couldn't quite bring herself to look away from him the way she wanted.

"So looks like you were holding up pretty well," he dropped his hand from her to look between her and his old friend.

"Yeah, it's been an interesting afternoon," she smiled. "He might be stronger than you..."

Sam's answering laugh echoed in the room.

"Oh yes she did! Challenge is down, now..."

Steve rolled his eyes but he didn't quite hide his smirk at Sam's antics.

"If I'm dressing down to spar, so are you," he ordered.

Sam made no arguments and crowded Steve along with him on the way to the locker room, heckling his friend and everyone else along the way to get them all to join. Gwen took the chance to look covertly over towards Tony.

He was still standing closer to the door speaking to Rhodey. The other man only seemed to be half listening while he responded to Sam's taunts and dares to come join in, too. "Old Man," in particular, was an insult he seemed to be taking issue with.

"I outrank you all day, Wilson!" he called back at the other man, who only laughed.

"Honorably discharged, sir - you're just gonna have to come teach me a lesson!" Sam shouted from the locker room doorway.

"Really?" Tony complained as his friend moved away. "That's how easy it is to get you? You're War Machine; just blow him up ... ...no? Okay, great..." he was talking to himself by the time Rhodey followed after the younger pilot.

Gwen took her chance and ditched Bucky to jog over to her discarded backpack and swipe it up by one of the arms.

"Tony," she caught his attention.

He let himself look a little surprised to find her approaching even though she felt sure that he was acutely aware of her movements. Whether because he was on the lookout for another verbal attack or because he wanted to talk to her, too, the world may never know.

"Stacy ...kickin' ass," he complimented with a nod towards the training mats.

"Well, yeah," she tried to lace the answer with some attitude.

Meanwhile she was fumbling with the zipper of her old bag. Nestled atop Spider Woman's costume was a bottle of the most expensive Scotch she had felt reasonable purchasing. She wanted the gift to mean something, but she also had a drastically different budget than a genius billionaire philanthropist. It might not match up to what she'd broken, but the thought was supposed to count for something.

"I got this for you," she grabbed the bottle of amber liquid by the neck and slipped it out.

"Ah ...Gwen..." he hesitated and leaned away.

But she thrust the Macallan's out to him.

"Just take it. I know it's not a cart of liquor," she headed-off whatever gripes he might be tempted to make in order to fend off any hint of sentimentality. "But it's a gesture."

He took it with a dubious look and twisted it around to look down at the label, rubbing a thumb over the embossed 18.

"Look ... ...I don't know a lot about good dads," he stated at length, "but I think your old man deserves this one. You should drink it for him."

And the bottle was pressed back into her hands before she realized he was trying to out-do her gesture with one of his own.

"Tony, no..."

She tried to physically refuse to take it but he simply let go of the bottle because he knew she'd be able to snatch it with her reflexes and literal sticky fingers.

"I don't even like Scotch," she argued once she righted her hold on it and looked up to give him an exasperated look.

"Then improve your taste," he crossed his arms much like he had the last time she'd stood before him.

But the tone was different; she wasn't angry and he wasn't trying to talk down at her.

"What am I going to do with this? I'd never buy this for myself," she argued-on anyhow even though his hands were now hidden from her so she couldn't force the bottle on him again.

"I'll take it," Clint darted forward to swipe it.

Gwen webbed the bottle and pulled it back into her own hands before he even had a chance to examine the label and see how nice of a prize he'd scored.

"Get your own."

"I was just trying to help you with conflict resolution. Christ almighty," he griped before shuffling out of the room altogether.

"Official meetings make him grumpy," Tony stared after the spy's retreating form.

"Tony, I wanted you to have this," Gwen wasn't distracted. "I was kind of a brat before..."

"Well yeah," he agreed reasonably, "and no," he conceded in the next beat. "I get tunnel vision; I know that..."

He said this like it meant nothing, but Gwen thought that the fact he was acknowledging this fault at all was the closest thing she'd get to an apology in a room in front of other people.

"Still, I was basically saying that you don't give a shit," Gwen curled her toes against the floor again uncomfortably, "but I know you do."

"Sometimes," he shrugged.

She rolled her eyes.

"I knew all about your dad," he went on. "I shouldn't have needed JARVIS to look up the date," Tony scolded himself. "I did my research - he was one of the good ones."

Gwen nodded at his shoulder rather than meet his eye. Guilty Steve had been one thing; blatantly genuine Tony was another. It was annoying when he veiled sincerity in sarcasm and pop-culture references, but at least it was safe and expected.

"Yeah..."

"I'm not super pumped that I got put in my place by a brat in her twenties, but sometimes th- WILSON! What the fuck!"

Gwen jumped at his volume and then looked to follow Tony's line of sight. Thinking that Sam was up to some shenanigan, she turned excitedly.

But the Wilson she found in the gym's doorway was one Wade Wilson.

Deadpool leaned casually - dare she say sensually - in the doorway with his full costume, including guns and katanas.

Her jaw fell slightly. She knew that he had snuck in a few times before, but the fact that he could and would do so always felt brazen- even for him.

"Your holy genius," he dipped into a mock bow towards Stark.

"Why the hell are you here? No, no -how are you here?" Tony demanded.

"Aw, what fun would I be if I told you all my secrets?" he strolled in carelessly.

A familiar high-pitch whine behind Gwen made her jump again, and this time she twisted to see that the hand of the Iron Man suit had built itself over Tony's palm and was aimed at Deadpool.

"Oooo," the man in question cooed.

"Tony," Gwen covered his hand in her own to push it aside.

"I'm sick of your friend," Tony continued to glare.

"Vents."

It was Bucky who'd spoken that time.

Vents. Wade had jokingly told her that he'd used the duct system to sneak into the Tower, but she'd thought he was pulling her leg because it seemed absurd. She thought of the noise she and Bucky had heard earlier, though, and realized he was probably right.

All eyes turned to Deadpool, whose blank white gaze narrowed at the older soldier.

"I don't like you or your man bun," he crossed his thick arms over his chest.

Bucky cocked his head at him and squared his shoulders. Gwen wasn't sure that he actually knew who Deadpool was, but he'd clearly gleaned enough to know he wasn't welcome here.

"Be nice," she strode towards the mercenary. "What're you doing here?" she asked a little quieter.

"In case you decided my plan was better than yours," he mock whispered.

Gwen scoffed.

"You were bored."

"That, too," he sighed in defeat. "I'm between jobs."

"You could've just asked to tag along."

"And you would. Have. Said. No," Tony inserted himself back into the conversation loudly. "Get him out of here."

"He's not hurting anything," Gwen pointed out fairly.

"No one innocently sneaks past security," he glowered.

"They do if they're bored," was Deadpool's counter-argument. "And you could thank me - now none of your little minions downstairs know you cavort with an assassin for hire" he added helpfully.

"We're not cavorting!"

"Not yet," Deadpool was clearly waggling his eyebrows behind the suit.

"Why can't I kill you?" Tony growled in frustration.

"That's a very complicated answer, b-"

"Spare me," Tony held up his plain hand.

"So is he here to spar, too, or what?" Bucky was eyeing Wade curiously, clearly weighing his subversiveness as a challenge if not necessarily a threat since no one was outright panicking.

The leather of Wade's suit creaked as he twisted round excitedly.

"No he is not!" Tony's voice was stern but went ignored.

"Oh you're on, Autobot," Wade's voice was lecherous as he unsheathed both katanas in a fluid motion.

"Whoa - uh-uh," Gwen shook her head, pointing between the two swords.

He made a petulant show of giving them up to her.

"All of it," she added when he made no move to unholster anything else she knew he had on him.

He was just as pouty about giving up his belt, the guns in his thigh holsters, and the multiple blades he had stashed on his person. He unloaded it all in a matter of seconds, creating a small pile near her feet.

"Can I get it on with Wall-E now, or what?"

"Does it matter if I say no?" Tony already sounded resigned.

"Not really," Wade skipped back to the the mat. "You ready?"

His voice was a half growl that Gwen recognized, and she'd have been a bit worried if Bucky were almost anyone else.

"Alright! The rules are there are no rules!" Wade cheered, reference again lost on Bucky's ears.

"He's good to go, Barnes," Tony promised blandly, coming to stand by Gwen.

If no one was going to listen to him in his own gym, then he supposed he could enjoy the show. There was a small chance that Barnes could knock some sense into Wilson with his metal arm, after all.

"...the hell?"

Both Tony and Gwen looked over their shoulders at Steve, Sam, and Rhodey returning in sweats and tanks. They were taking in the sight before them with varying degrees of surprise.

"The kids won't stop playing," was Tony's explanation, but he turned around again quickly at the sound of the first impact he'd missed.

It looked like Deadpool had (likely) let Bucky hit him with his metal hand just so he could laugh and show the man he might not have the advantage he thought he did.

"Why can't you have normal friends?" Tony glared ahead, though his words were clearly for Gwen.

"The only normal friends I have are the ones I went to school with."

Because, to be fair, she wasn't really normal, and being friends with The Avengers wasn't exactly normal, either.

He only tutted at that.

"You don't have to pick up strays while you're on patrol, you know?"

Gwen didn't bother to answer, but Wade's head turned at the comment and his distraction cost him an uppercut straight to the chin. That made Tony chuckle even though it didn't stun the red-suited man for long; he dove straight back at Bucky.

And they really were a sight to see, both a rush of destructive movement. Gwen knew Wade was a good fighter, but she rarely had the chance to sit back and watch him in action - there was usually too much else going on. He was acrobatic if he had a spare second and brutal every other moment.

"Ya know, if his name is really Wilson you might be related," she heard Rhodey telling Sam a few feet away.

"Shut up..."

"What? Family's family," the older man continued.

"Man ...yo, Gwen, you ever seen him without his get-up?" Sam ticked his chin at her.

Deadpool laughed but didn't pause in the fight.

"Huh?"

"We're trying to decide if they're long lost brothers," Rhodey laughed.

"Twins!" Deadpool shouted over before ducking a punch and grabbing Bucky round the middle and slamming him to the ground.

"Couldn't tell ya," Gwen snickered.

Via Wade himself, she knew that almost any record of his original life had been wiped away by the Weapon X Project. While they were a lot of unsettling things about that, it did mean that no one could look too deeply into him even if he kept using his real name- Stark included.

"Somehow I doubt that..."

Natasha was back, though when she'd returned was anyone's guess. She was standing back a few feet from the others, shoulder propped against the wall and arms crossed while she watched the two mean sparring with an uninterested gaze.

Gwen caught her eye but didn't comment further.

"Johnny 5 bleeds!" Wade threw his fists into the air when Bucky wiped the back of his hand over his mouth to clear blood off a split lip.

"How many robot movies are you going to reference?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"Only ever single one, Angry Bird!"

Rhodey laughed openly.

"Ya know; he's a lot like you, Tony..."

"Aw, thanks!" Wade sang.

"Shut it!"

Gwen wondered for a moment if Tony didn't like Deadpool because he didn't get to be the snarkiest one in the room when he showed up.

"Let me in, huh, Buck?" Steve stepped further onto the mat when the breather seemed to be over and the two men squared-up again.

Bucky relaxed and shrugged, chest heaving lightly. He walked away without a word and Steve hopped lightly on his feet, swinging his arms to shake them out.

"Deadpool vs. Apple Pie - round one! Ding ding ding!"

The fight followed much the same as the last, for Steve and Bucky were of similar strength and ability. Somehow, though, Gwen thought Wade looked less brutal with Steve ...but maybe he just wasn't as fresh as he'd been against the other soldier.

"Gonna gawk at the boys all day?"

Natasha nodded her question at Gwen, who nodded back and then hustled to put the bottle of liquor back into her backpack. On second thought, she scuttled all of Wade's things out of the way to rest near her bag, too, lest Tony be tempted to pilfer just for the sake of pilfering.

"Hey, we can do whatever you want ...but do you mind teaching me anything with the knives?" Gwen jerked a thumb toward the racks of mock weapons.

The redhead arched a manicured eyebrow at her, though she didn't look at all disapproving.

"Thinking of adapting your suit to add an arsenal?" she guessed, and her gaze darted quickly to Wade and then back.

"No, I do alright without it," Gwen hoped she sounded humble in saying. "But we were mocking up a knife-fight scenario," she gestured off towards Bucky, who was watching Steve and Deadpool very closely, "and he was impressive, but he didn't want to teach me..."

Natasha considered her a moment longer.

"I'm not surprised," she said, finally. "He was tasked with training other fighters as the Winter Soldier ...and the Winter Soldier didn't do anything nicely."

"Oh ...we don't have to, then, if it's going to upset him..."

"Why? Because Wilson can teach you later, instead?"

The older woman's look was challenging, and Gwen weighed her answer options. It was already common knowledge that she and Deadpool were friends, so she didn't see why she couldn't answer honestly.

"Sure, if I asked."

"Mmhmm ...what's going on there?"

Gwen shrugged.

"I'm not sure."

And that much was true. She knew what it looked like and what it was feeling like, but she wasn't actually sure what it all was.

"Mmmhmm," she repeated.

Natasha continued to scrutinize her, and Gwen did her best to hold the gaze. She had not, after all, lied. There was no deception to see here ...but then why was she letting the spy make her feel uneasy?

"Woooo! Uncle Sam packs a wallop!"

Gwen turned on instinct, but Wade was rubbing his jaw and picking himself up off the floor in one mostly-fine piece. When she turned back to her conversation, Natasha was smirking.

"Look..."

"Knives then," the woman strutted away to the weapons rack to grab a few of the blunt-but-probably-still-lethal-in-her-hands knives.

The weight didn't feel quite right in Gwen's fingers as they were so often empty or grasping only threads of web, but she didn't think she was an awful student. Natasha said knives were not her first choice of weapons, but she was still adept with them. She covered the right holds and how and when to switch between them for particular attacks, and Gwen gave her her full attention.

Would she every actually use it? Maybe not, but it was still neat.

As if Natasha noticed her lapse of focus to muse about this, she swung out at Gwen in a not-so-friendly-teacher way. Gwen sprung back in time for the fist to whip past where her face had just been. She liked to think the spy would've pulled the hit if she'd been caught truly unawares. Then again, Natasha Romanoff probably would have felt she'd have earned the hit if she actually managed to surprise the powered girl.

Game on, then.

Tony had shifted his attention to the women already. It was more aesthetically pleasing than Deadpool's tight suit and Steve's mockingly bare biceps ...so sue him.

"Hot, right?"

He managed not to react to Deadpool's voice behind him except to close his eyes and count to three. Of course the mercenary would've been alert enough to use his lack of focus against him. He shot a look to the space he and Cap had been sparring; Bucky had taken Deadpool's place. Tony had already had front row seats to that show before, so he turned a look to the suited man.

"Done and leaving so soon?"

It was a little eerie that the man was lingering so close at his arm but just slightly behind him. Not that he'd admit it.

"Oh, no, not yet," his voice was lower in both volume and timbre than usual.

"Great"

"You gave our girl a hard time, playboy..."

"Yeah," Tony wasn't pleased that had been broadcasted to this particular man. "But you're behind. We hashed that out."

"Uh-huh - I heard," Deadpool crossed his arms casually and now stepped to stand directly next to the billionaire.

This admittedly dwarfed Tony a little, but he didn't balk. He was often in rooms with men more ripped than him these days.

"So?" he asked in bored fashion.

"So you were a Grade A dick ...and I'm watching you."

And that was a threat even if he wasn't shoving Tony up against a wall. All the implication was there in his tone and show of stature.

"And you are ...what? Fairy God-killer, kindest soul in NYC?" Stark scoffed.

"No," he snorted. "No, I'm a total asshole. And now I'm an asshole whose got an eye on you, mother fucker," he lowered his voice into a hiss.

As the threat became more blatant, Tony lifted his head to actually look at the other man. He wasn't so much shocked that the Merc would throw around threats, but he was a little surprised they were coming now for Gwen. They all knew -and wondered why - the two were pals, but it had usually looked casual and annoying and almost funny, not ... ...personal.

"You better start cutting her a break," Deadpool gazed levelly at him without humor or sing-song bullshit. "She's out there dealing with sex trafficking and drug dealers and rapist and shit all goddamn week - there's a fucking world at the foot of this throne, ya know."

This again.

"I'm aware."

"Oh, Mr. Silver Spoon knows what it's like scraping by on the streets, yeah?" Deadpool faux-whined. "Get the fuck outta here," he sobered straight up. "You call her getting gritty out on the streets 'petty' one more time, and you might just find yourself meeting an accident. I'm sure there's plenty of shit that goes boom in this giant phallus of a building. Someone could wander in and got careless..."

"Aimed a little high with that threat, pal. Not realistic, even for you."

Because he was 99% sure that was beyond this guy's M.O, especially given there was a daycare and medical facilities on the premises.

"You're right," Deadpool bent forward to laugh at himself before standing straight again quickly. "But things fall out of the sky all the time - anything could happen happen to you on your way out to get your Americano. Double espresso after a long night, right?"

Tony did pause, then. He didn't always go out for coffee - there wasn't usually a need unless he wanted the fresh air - but that **was** his go-to drink. Perhaps that had been in a tabloid at some point...

"Maybe," Deadpool nodded. "Maybe not..."

And Tony Stark was finally wrong-footed. It could've been the unsettlingly blank, but somehow still expressive, white eyes. Or it could've been the fact that he knew Deadpool was capable of completing the threat, not to mention unstable enough to perhaps also be willing. There were a lot of rumors about Deadpool, and nothing Tony had ever seen in person contradicted the legends.

Except, maybe, befriend Spider Woman...

Deadpool had left him with that cryptic last idea and was now striding towards Gwen and Natasha. He bent to scoop up one of his own -and very real - knives from the ground on the way. Tony didn't particularly approve of him with a weapon at the moment, but given the lengths he'd just gone to defend Gwen's reputation he doubted he was about to harm her bodily, now.

Wade stalked closer and waited until Gwen was on the defense, blocking a hit and dancing backwards from SpiderSpy. He then grabbed the back of her neck to yank her against him, and he raised the knife to plunge at her, but she caught his wrist and cranked it to the side. He grinned behind his mask and so didn't see the kick from Romanoff until it was too late ...and did he really mind, anyway? She kicked out his leg, so he fell to a knee with one arm still clutched by the blonde.

"I think I've had this dream before," he sighed dreamily.

"Gross," Gwen released him.

"No, no, don't ruin it - you're supposed to say: 'and what do we have here..." his voice went husky.

"Good to see you, too, Wilson," Natasha's neutral scowl was firmly in place.

"Always a pleasure," Wade agreed and sprung to both feet, sheathing his knife at the same time. "Learning some new tricks over here, I see ... ...need me to take you knife shopping, Blondie?"

"You her sugar daddy?" Natasha took a stab at defining their relationship.

"I wish," the masked man gave a fake shudder.

Gwen scoffed.

"What? I'd be good to you!" he defended himself.

Then, despite the classic rock music playing quietly in the background of the room's general ruckus, he began his own song and dance.

"..._I know that ain't nobody perfect, I give props to those who deserve it..._"

He popped his hips, making his way toward Gwen as he did. Her head tipped back in a laugh, but she didn't wave him off. Then, to his own surprise, she was dancing to just the beat of his words, as well.

"Yes!" he interrupted himself for only a second. " _You so crazy I think I wanna have your baby_! ...get in on this, Red."

"Don't even think about it ...Red," Natasha returned, staring at but not accepting the gloved hand that came her way.

"... ..._Whatta man, whatta mighty good maaaaan_ ..."

"Why is this happening?" Tony complained as Deadpool continued to know every line and Gwen jumped in where she knew the words. "Sam, stop joining!" he called when he spotted the other WIlson also singing along.

"Sam!" Gwen clapped, seeing this too.

Rhodey was laughing. Natasha was walking away, and Steve and Bucky were looking quietly bemused.

Wait, why was Sam dancing, too? Why was this even Tony's life? He'd had a meeting with a Senator hours ago, for Christ's sake.

Although ...maybe this was better than that.

"_Yes, my man says he love me, never says he loves me not..._"

Jesus, both of the Wilsons were in sync, now, and maybe Tony was just still asleep and hadn't even gotten up for the meeting in DC yet? Ugh, and now even Steve was grinning...

"_...but every time they tried, I said 'That's not it!_'" the three were in unison for that line.

"That's enough!" Tony shouted over them all. "This is not a dance floor."

"Any floor is a dance floor if you just try," Deadpool disagreed and thrust his hips in Tony's direction.

"Technically true," Gwen nodded and Sam chuckled.

Their Jet had gone through a wormhole. Yes. That must be it.

"Do you prefer MC Hammer? Wu Tang Clan? I can take requests," Deadpool offered magnanimously.

"I request that you get him out of here, Stacy. He's your responsibility," Tony pointed Gwen

"Are you my mommy?!" Deadpool chirped to the young woman.

"...I think I would've raised you better," she elected after a thoughtful look..

"Undoubtedly."

He didn't seem sorry to be dismissed, now. He just trudged over to his discarded arsenal and started replacing it on his person. Gwen took Stark at his word, too, and trudged over to grab her bag.

"Good hanging out - Bucky, I'll be back," she pointed his way.

"I'm sure I'll be here."

He offered her a small smile and hen returned his gaze to Deadpool, who he still didn't seem sure what to make of. He would likely have several questions for Steve.

"Yeah, this was a really nice circle jerk - same time next week? Oof," Gwen shut Deadpool up with a whack to the gut.

"Can you get him out of here your way?" Tony appealed to her. "I don't want him in my lobby - or my ductwork," he continued to grouse

"Sweet! Let's go," Wade dove into Gwen's arms bridal style.

She caught him, of course, much to Sam and even Rhodey's amusement.

"We'll just fall to the ground if I can't use my arms," she reminded him, non-plussed.

"Fine," his sigh was put-upon, but he got back to his feet. "Piggyback?"

"You could just shove him off the roof, you know?" Tony suggested helpfully.

"Roof, huh? No cutting through the Penthouse?" Gwen smirked while she dug for her mask in her bag.

"Absolutely not - JARVIS, lock my floor. Take them straight up to the top!" he headed off any further shenanigans.

'Of course, sir.'

Without needing to be asked, Deadpool took Gwen's bag from her and slung it over his own shoulders so she'd have room for him. Not a lot of room, mind, but he made do to awkwardly latch himself around her.

"You could wait ..." she suggested while he tested out how to fit his legs around her smaller frame.

"Nah," he settled in. "Mush!"

"I'm going to ignore the female dog implication," Gwen grunted as she adjusted him and then leant forward so she could free a hand and pull on her mask.

"Whatever you like."

Wade helped her make sure the mask was pulled down all the way and patted the top of her head when he was satisfied with it.

"Bye, guys," Gwen headed for the elevator, which was waiting open for them thanks to JARVIS. "I'm going to need a nap after all of this."

Wade wiggled his fingers at the rest of the team as the elevator doors slid closed. Sam was laughing again and, grinning, Rhodey turned to make sure he could see the windows and would be able to (hopefully) see Spider Woman and Deadpool fly past.

"What're you laughing for?" Tony grumped.

"They're just such a damn weird pair," the man shrugged.

"True," Rhodey nodded.

"So you like this asshole?"

Deadpool himself had admitted to being such.

"Like? Nah, I dunno about that," Sam sobered up enough to be honest regarding how much he really knew about the guy.

"I don't trust him either, Tony, but ... ...I don't know that I'd consider him an enemy," Rhodey graded.

"Jesus..."

"Gwen trusts him," Sam added hopefully.

But that was part of Tony's problem. Gwen had once seemed to be humoring Deadpool. Today she'd clearly enjoyed his unexpected visit; Deadpool had even made it clear she confided in him. Tony hadn't really approved when this friendship looked like some sort of convenience on the streets, but he was a little more disturbed now.

"That's a pretty thin leash on a rabid pitbull..."

"We don't know that," Sam was forever fair.

"I know what you're saying," Steve interjected to Tony, "but he's never really gotten in our way."

That was a little judicious in Tony's opinion, and it must have shown on his face.

"I don't like him," Steve went on. "I'm just saying we might as well not stir up anything there unless we have to. He and Gwen are partnering up, but he's not with us - we'll leave it at that for now."

They did have enough going on...

"I'm running security checks," he muttered and stalked off.

The others lingered and, sure enough, moments later Gwen, with Deadpool riding shotgun, swung past. The man flipped them the bird until Gwen gave a tug on a new web and he returned that arm around her shoulders.

* * *

"I don't like the Winter Solider..."

"What? Mmmm," Gwen gasped. "Wade, is this really the time?"

She'd needed a shower when she got home, and then she really had intended to take a nap. The only flaw in that particular plan was that Wade had decided he wanted to snag a shower, too, and then join her in bed naked. He'd spooned right up behind her and proceeded to make a sexy little nuisance of himself until she'd nodded the go-ahead and lifted her hips so he could shimmy her underwear and shorts off and down her legs.

He was still wrapped around her from behind, one of her legs now lifted and hooked back over his so his fingers could worm their way between her thighs.

"I don't see why it's not," he disagreed, hips still rolling forward. "I can multitask."

"...I don't want to," Gwen sighed and reached behind herself to dig her nails into his hip.

"Well, I do. I don't like him..."

"Wade, c'mon," she breathed.

"Focus up," he removed his hand from between her legs but did increase the pace of his hips a bit.

Gwen groaned, mostly in frustration he was well aware, but tried better to listen.

"The man bun?" she remembered his comment about it.

"Nah, I don't care about that - it was practical," he was fair on this point, at least. "I didn't like his hands on you," he specified while grabbing at her himself.

"Mmmm ...it wasn't like that," she whispered but got no verbal response. "W- mmmm ...Wade, you know it wasn't like that," she insisted a bit louder.

He grunted.

"I don't trust him..."

He was breathing harder in her ear and tightened his arms around her, but Gwen struggled to consider her words rather than how this all sent more heat shooting South.

"Trust me then."

Some silly corner of her wanted to tease him and tell him it wasn't like they were exclusive - they'd hadn't made those kinds of explicit promises. But it wasn't the time for that, and it's not like she had any interest anyway. Not regarding Bucky, specifically - he was a handsome man - but in any of it ...except for this right here. Not that she wanted to think too deeply on that just now.

"I do," Wade growled and sucked onto her neck.

His arms hugged around her so tightly that her breath stuck in her throat, and it was almost painful.

"I know you don't break. You're so strong..."

The relief when his arms loosened and the wash of his compliments made her feel light, though he still held her, and she grabbed at his hip again in lieu of embracing him in return.

"Wade..."

"I don't trust him not to hurt you, though. I don't like it," he grunted.

"Wade ...mmm...Wade, I'm okay. I'm fine," she panted.

"I know," he shifted himself so he was a little more above her than behind her. "I know," he repeated and grabbed her chin to kiss her.

She could loop an arm around him, then, and smooth a hand over his uneven skin.

"Wade..."

"I wanna rip the face off anyone who comes at you. I'd never let anyone hurt you..."

She wondered if she would have found that condescending if he hadn't been inside of her and she was vulnerable and flushed with endorphins. Only ...he didn't sound coddling. A little possessive, maybe, but also desperate (that was probably the impending orgasm) and almost reverent ... ...that could have been the sex, too.

Then again, she realized he'd probably watched the sparing for some time today, seeing her slammed to the ground and Bucky trying to see what his mechanical arm could really do against her. She was strong but smaller than Bucky, which had allowed her to be manhandled a bit. No wonder he'd been ready for his own fight with the other man. Never mind that heknew she'd be alright; he hadn't liked seeing her not have the upper hand. It wasn't natural to stand back and watch it - she understood that. She'd balked at seeing him walking around with a knife in his ribs and had stopped him getting shot even though she knew he could survive it. She still wouldn't let him get hurt, either. Not if she could help it.

She knew the feeling.

And even if she didn't need it - not usually, not really - she liked feeling protected. Knowing he was there. Knowing someone understood her. Saw her.

She just didn't know how to tell him right now.

"Imma kill him next time I see him," he murmured against her mouth.

"Ngh," Gwen groaned, toes curling with a hardier thrust. "No you're not..."

He fisted a hand in her short hair and pulled so her head was thrown back and he could tongue her throat. Allowing this was submissive and trusting, and she shuddered -she liked it.

"I might," he returned, bringing her back to the point.

"Stop it," she muttered.

Unsure if she meant his words or the way he was holding her, Wade released her and leaned back slightly. She had a grin on her hips when she lowered her chin.

"I think you had fun today..."

"I'm having fun **now**," he amended and shifted his weight so he could sneak a hand down her body to wiggle its way between her legs to play with her again.

Her pupils were blown wide with lust and she squirmed a little more against him. Her mouth had opened to retort but she seemed to lose the thread for a moment, and he sucked onto her jaw to allow her a few seconds to just breathe and enjoy.

"Something to say?" he bit her bottom lip.

"...you liked it," she picked up where they'd left off even as she shifted her legs to give him more room.

"Nah, I like you. To hell with them," he was growling again.

And he meant it 99%.

"Ah," Gwen arched her back and reached her arm up to grab the back of his head. "God, Wade... Wade..." her hand fisted tightly in his mask, and he tensed as if she were going to rip it the rest of the way off, but he knew she always asked first...

"Tell me I can kill 'em," he bit down onto her ear.

He meant it even though he didn't.

She shook her head in answer, pulling a deep whine out of him. Couldn't she just agree for the sake of this conversation? He wouldn't hold her to it like a promise.

**Might bring it back up now and then though**

"You'd miss them," a smile ghosted her lips.

"We'll see..."

He knew he had started the conversation, but he didn't want to talk about those nerds anymore. He pulled back to tilt her hips and thrust a bit harder.

Because he was allowed to manhandle her.

**Damn straight. Only me**.

If that made him a bit of a dick, he was okay with it. She'd stop him if she wanted.

"They don't deserve you," he panted.

And that was perfectly true. They didn't know the half of her.

Okay, so Stark helped her.

And Cap seemed perfectly respectful.

And Romanoff taught her shit.

And Wilson - okay, shit, that guy was alright.

But they still didn't have shit on her. Never.

**Fuuuuuck**.

"Fuck, baby..."

"Wade..."

He paused within her and toyed with her between her legs a bit more lest he bust a nut before he meant to. He'd gotten into his head and stopped paying enough attention.

"Oh, Wade..." she ground against him and he groaned, rubbing her hip but continued to stay still otherwise. "Oh ...mmmm..."

Her breath hitched and he crashed his mouth into hers and began to thrust again in earnest.

"Wade..." her voice was a whimpering sigh into his skin, and he wanted to fill his ears with the sound forever.

**Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.**

Even as he thought this with each of his last, sloppy thrusts ...he knew it wasn't true. She wasn't his. She wasn't anyones. But he'd chase her all damn day...

No. He had her.

When Wade relaxed and sat back on his knees for a moment before shifting around so they could both lay back down, spooning loosely once again.

She still needed that nap, after all.

"...Wade?" Gwen tried after a few minutes, not sure if he'd fallen asleep.

"Mmm?" he grunted.

Grinning, she squirmed around under his heavy arm until she could lay facing him instead. It really had been a taxing day and she should get some sleep in before heading out tonight, but she wasn't quite ready to.

She felt like something had happened here, that he'd said some important things - maybe without really saying them - and she wanted to acknowledge it. She also didn't want to discuss it. What if she said the wrong thing and cheapened it? Or maybe he would balk and just joke it off...

She traced a finger over his chin and then up the bottom of his cheek to sneak under his flipped-up mask.

"Can I?"

"...don't see why you'd want to..."

His voice held a false cheeriness, but he wasn't telling her not to do it. So she continued pushing her hand up and peeled the mask away so she could continue gently tracing his face with light fingers. He closed his eyes, perhaps to feign sleep.

They were both well aware of the fact that she knew what his face had once been, that it had been angled and handsome. That it had been better, as he would insist. Gwen understood why he would think that and knew she would feel the same way about herself should she have been the one whose skin mottled and hair fell out...

And, yet, she had not shared a bed with that Wade. They had been pals, they'd fucked around once or twice, and they had worked together a little bit, but that was all. She trusted him now more than ever; his new look hadn't gotten in the way of that.

And he knew that, she thought. He just didn't seem to feel it himself. She traced his finger down his nose and then let it fall away and tucked her arm against her chest to sleep.

Because she trusted being there. With him.

Wade peeked an eye open once she went still to check that she had actually settled in to sleep. He felt the intense need to bolt, and he thought she might not mind since she would have some work to do when she woke. Then again ...this was cozy

He could stay a bit.

Like he'd said, he was between jobs.

**Night night, Spidey Poo.**


	6. Whiplash

**Whiplash**

Gwen rolled gracelessly across Wade's bed to pull her cellphone off of the charger she'd been using on his chipped bed stand. She wasn't blind to the handgun sitting under the top shelf, but she didn't dwell on it. She much preferred it there than tucked under a pillow, which was where he claimed to keep it when she wasn't staying over.

She turned away and spotted her crumpled blue dress that had been dropped in the corner. Smirking, she picked it up to fold and set on a cluttered IKEA dresser so she wouldn't have to look later.

It was a short, long-sleeved dress that had been form fitting but nothing too fancy. She'd worn it to a small get-together - dinner, desserts, and drinks around a patio fire - at Stark's penthouse. The evening had been hosted mostly by Pepper but aided and abetted by Tony. The team had gathered up for some casual relaxing, Pepper quashing any attempts to talk shop. Thor was heading to Europe soon, so they'd thought to bond a bit before seeing him off.

Thor, by the by, was something else. Gwen wasn't sure if him calling her Lady Arachnid was genuine or something Sam and/or Tony had put him up to, and he wasn't telling. He'd also dared her to user her strength to catch his hammer, and he hadn't seemed to notice the entendre there. Again, it was possible he'd been put up to this. She didn't know him much since he always came and went, and as a result she had retreated for a while with Banner and slammed a few drinks before returning to the patio.

So she'd been a little tipsy - the drunkenness nearly completely faded thanks to her metabolism - when she'd shown up at Wade's. She hadn't been sure that he'd ever seen her in heels or a dress, and the way he'd suddenly been sorry that he hadn't scored an invite to the party, too, suggested he in fact had not.

...

_"Dress code's changing around here," he'd told her after grabbing her hand and making her twirl on the spot._

_"That means you'll have to dress up, too, then."_

_"Totally worth it..."_

_She'd tried to step away but he'd stopped her so he could continue looking her up and down._

_"I never knew I wished you were taller..."_

_"Don't get too used to it; these aren't comfortable..."_

_At that she'd lifted a leg to try to unzip and remove the offending shoes._

_"Don't you dare," he'd scooped her up around his waist before she could. "Keep 'em on..."_

_But he'd been kind enough to fuck her up against the wall just like that so she hadn't had to stay on sore feet. Instead the edges of the heels had scraped his thighs while he listened to encouragements like : "Oh...you feel good", and "Don't stop!"_

...

Wade had taken her at her word, too, and had certainly not stopped. He had remembered her complaint, though, and helped her kick the shoes aside before bending her over his couch. And that was all before pulling her to his bed to finally rid her of the dress he'd so liked.

So, needless to say, Gwen had slept in. By the time she'd crawled out of his bed and borrowed one of his hoodies he was already up. She'd found him pacing in the living room in front of numerous cork boards propped around the room and a two-sided whiteboard.

These things were usually stashed in the apartment's second bedroom along with extra weapons. They were hauled out when he wanted to do some work. So they had been discussing and hypothesizing since the morning. It wasn't the first time and, based on how it was going, probably not the last.

Wade -Deadpool - had been out of state for a job until a few days ago, so he was trying to get back on track with his ultimate vendetta and make some headway.

Gwen, still pants-less, now padded back out to the living room in his sweatshirt to join him once more. He was standing in jeans and a t-shirt, one arm crossed over his chest and the other holding one of her high heels, tapping his chin thoughtfully with the toe of it.

"Cut it out," she reached for it.

But he palmed her forehead and pressed her away without sparing a glance to her.

"It helps me think..."

She very much doubted that, but he had woken up in one of his more sullen moods so she didn't nitpick right now.

"Just don't put it in your mouth; I'll never look at those the same."

"Kinky."

But his tone lacked any lecherous enthusiasm, and he did not, in fact, make a move to lick or suck on the shoe. It would unfortunately have been more normal if he did.

"What're you thinking?" Gwen checked after giving him several minutes while she checked some social media and made moves against both Sam and MJ in 'Words with Friends'.

"You don't want to know," he answered darkly.

"Yes I do."

Wade glared over his shoulder at her. This was the one area she'd agreed to allow him all leeway, but if he said too much and abused it she may go and change her mind on him.

**She wouldn't; would she? She could...but maybe not**.

"Wanna run through it from the beginning?" she offered and patted the space on the couch next to her.

"I hate the beginning," he grumbled.

"We could start at killing Francis, then," Gwen offered because that victory usually put at least a little pep in his step.

Indeed, his eyes flashed before he flopped down to sit beside her and spread out, still facing his obsessive work.

"Well, see, Colossus didn't want me to do it because he's a big metal baby, but in true Me fashion..."

She twisted where she sat and draped her legs into his lap while he regaled her with the tale she'd heard many times of finally -finally - putting a bullet in the face of his nemesis.

Then they moved on to each bit of information that had come to fit into the fucked up Weapon X puzzle since then. It wasn't a brief task because it wasn't a straight timeline. Often, information Wade had extracted and dismissed in his initial hunt for Francis came back around as he found out about other players in the sick game. Plus there were tangents to go on and thought bunnies to explore.

The most concerning of these was usually how Wade was going to examine his conscience when it came to facing-off with any of these hand-made-mutant-slaves. Because if they were enslaved but trying to kill him, where did killing them first fall in his grey interpretation of right and wrong? He could really go on about that topic until Gwen offered to incapacitate them for him; "web them up" to be determined at a later time if they were acting of their own accord or not. He didn't seem wholly satisfied with this solution, but he did put a pin in it and move on.

The full picture now spanned multiple states - possibly countries if one source was to be believed. It was truly quite terrifying.

And they ended, as they had for some time now, on one name: Killibrew.

Dr. Killibrew.

If he wasn't the head of it he must be damn close, but he also might as well be a ghost.

Nothing new stuck-out as interesting in their rehashing, and by the time they finished Wade was pacing again and wringing Gwen's shoe in his hands.

"Everyone's scared of him," Gwen drummed her fingers on her knees, her legs flung from his lap some time ago when he'd leapt to his feet.

"They should be scared of me!" he threw her shoe against the wall in frustration.

It knocked a couple empty beer bottles off a shelf, but Gwen didn't care. It looked like he'd already worried the shoe enough that a zipper was broken, so she'd written the item off about twenty minutes prior.

His chest was heaving in suppressed fury, and she eyed him carefully.

"Can I suggest something?"

"Obviously."

"...even if I don't think you'll like it?"

His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms, already prepared to be stubborn. Even so, he lifted a hand to wave in a "go on" fashion.

"There's a lot of untapped potential with the X-Men."

"Fuck no," he threw up his hands.

"But they already sort of know what you're dealing with."

"And they've tried getting in my way, too!" Wade raged. "Tried to stop me, tried to talk me out of it, **fucked** shit up the first time I found Francis! I was lucky to get **anything** done with them and their thumbs up their asses half the time..."

"They're strong allies," Gwen argued. "You were going to them for help again before," she also pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I needed more help than Weasel. Now I've got you," he waved her whole plan away.

"And I'm saying they might be able to help..."

"**Fuck** them and their matching suits ... ...maybe if Wolvie was around, but who the fuck knows when that will be..."

He allegedly hadn't been back around the school in over a year.

"Can I make another suggestion?"

"Sure, you're really on a roll..." he bit.

Gwen disregarded the sarcasm.

"... ... I had dinner last night in the most high-tech building in the country."

Maybe the world, but there was no reason to brag when Tony would do that himself.

"No," he threw a fresh glare at her.

"There's limitless resources there," she plowed on.

"No."

"And you wouldn't have to wait so long to-"

"No. No. **No!**" he roared, slamming his hands down on the back of the couch. "They'll fuck it all up!"

The back of Gwen's neck tingled, and it was all she could do not to hop off the couch and bristle at him for his attitude. That would distract from her point, which might be what he was hoping for.

"It's not like they'd support this," she waved at his meticulous, if overfull, boards.

"They'll get. In. My. Way," he ground out between his teeth.

"Wade..."

"I'm killing every one of these mother fuckers," he growled at her, sucking in a deep breath. "Anyone who's in on it, anyone who's touched it ... ... ...the shit they did..." he trailed off, jaw working tightly.

"I know. That's why-"

"You don't," he rocked the whole couch when he shoved it. "You," he raised his hands and made choking motions with them but didn't draw nearer to her. "You have no clue."

And that was technically true; he'd never shown any indication to wanting to share details, so she didn't ask for them. She just knew it was bad. Bad enough he wanted revenge. Bad enough he didn't want anyone else to go through it. Bad enough he was willing to do almost -but clearly not quite - anything.

Gwen rose from the couch to face him across it, finally uncomfortable enough with him looming over her.

"I'm not saying I understand what that was like," she told him what she suspected he already knew. "If you want to talk ab-"

"No," he sliced his hand through the air. "That's not on the table."

"Okay."

He paced around again and she left him to it for a while.

She turned to face his compilation of work so far. It comprised of scribbled notes, photos, newspaper articles, print-offs of online forum communications, stolen data, maps, doodles (for some reason), and more. It was overwhelming.

All at once it was too much to helpfully parse through, and it was not enough.

It wasn't enough even though -no brag - she was intelligent, and - total brag! - Wade was historically quite good at this kind of thing. They just couldn't be everywhere or see every thing. Somehow, she hoped staring would make some new connections to pursue.

Wade's pacing brought him nearer, and he finally stopped to fold a broad forearm over her narrower shoulders and plunk his chin atop her head to stare, too. They stood a couple minutes this way, their breaths falling into sync.

"Wade," she wanted to try again.

His large hand covered her mouth before she could say anything else. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, waiting for him to stop. He didn't, so she brushed his hand away.

He resisted the attempt.

"Don't do it, Blondie."

She side-stepped him and he allowed this.

"Just listen."

"No!" he snapped.

"Why not?"

"Gwen!" he shouted her down.

But she ticked her chin up and planted her hands on her hips so he knew something was coming regardless.

"Fuck," he spat.

**Should kick her right out.**

"Let me use JARVIS a -"

"Okay, and I'll just invite Stark over for tea, too!"

"JARVIS can run a search for me without Tony around."

"And I'm sure he'll never find out..."

"If he does I'll already be done. Wade, JARVIS can search everything..." Gwen kept her cool.

"Don't you think I know that?"

"Everything," she reiterated. "Bank records, every website, crime data from all over the world! And all we need is a rumor to-"

"Enough!" he was at top volume again. "Why are you trying to ruin this?"

Gwen froze.

"What?"

"Why do you need your other friends in this? They'll find out and they'll ruin it - they'll get in my way!" he repeated this fear. "I swear to God, Gwen, if they try to stop me, I"ll ... ..."

His heart was racing at the thought, and he stopped to try to control his excited breathing. Talking about killing any of the Avengers crew was always a bit of a joke, or occasionally a half-wish, but if they tried to stop him on this front ... ...he might just go for it. Allegiances be damned, he might not be able to stop himself. As much as he didn't want to say it out loud to her, it was true.

"I know you're angry..."

"I'm livid," he spat just to be disagreeable - it was childish, he knew.

**But satisfying.**

She waited a beat.

"Just think about it."

"No," he scoffed.

Why wasn't she getting this? **She thinks she's so smart.**

"W-"

"And don't you go fuck around with Stark's BFF behind my back," he thrust a finger toward her.

It didn't escape him that she'd put a couple feet between them, but it didn't phase him just then. It was probably for the best given that he felt like he might spontaneously combust at any moment.

"You call the shots here," she reminded him - **damn right**. "I just want you to consider every option."

"What do you think I do when I break in there, Gwen?" he exploded.

"...what?"

"I mean, I spy on you, yeah," he conceded. "But I've also already tried having a heart-to-heart with the All Seeing Eye, alright? It said it wouldn't do shit for me without reporting back to Stark. If Stark knows, Boy Wonder will know, and they'll fucking sweep in and help and be perfect, **but they won't do it right!" **He was enraged again. "You promised," he stalked forward but stopped when she rocked back on her heels like she wasn't sure if she should retreat.

**Never**.

So he inhaled deeply through his nose once. Twice.

"You promised you wouldn't get in my way on this..." he was quieter but no less stubborn.

"I won't."

**She meant it. She meant it. She meant it.**

"They did this to me," he shoved a finger in his own face. "And the way they did it ...I can't even ...I wake up some nights thinking there's no air in my lungs," his eyes went dark. "And I wasn't the only one ...some of those people had kids, and they didn't give a **fuck** \- not one..." he shook his head to get his thoughts back in order. "They fucked me up, but now ...now I can't die, and I'm going to make them regret it. Every last one of them."

"I don't disagree.

"Yes you do," he returned darkly.

"I already-"

"Said you won't stop me," he understood. "But you don't think it's right. Maybe if I tried to drown you, froze you nearly to death," he spoke slower now. "If I strung you up just to strip you and beat the shit out of you ... ...maybe then you'd get it, too," he'd stalked closer and poked a finger into her sternum.

She finally stepped away from him when he touched her. There was something very much Spider Woman in the set of her shoulders.

"Cut it out," her voice was a little shaky, so that wasn't quiet the order she wished it was. "You want to scare me? Congratulations. Mission accomplished. I'm horrified..."

"Shit," he sighed and stepped away to run his hands over his scalp.

"I don't know exactly what happened to you, but I've seen what it's put you through ...and that's enough, alright? It's enough for me to be irrevocably on your side," her voice was a little choked still but didn't warble as she continued.

"Fuck," he muttered, followed by a louder, "FUCK!"

Gwen reached for his arm but he wrenched himself way and stomped down the hall. He reemerged seconds later with a beanie on his head tugging on a large zip-up hoodie.

"Where are you going?" Gwen stiffened, acutely aware that she wasn't dressed appropriately to follow.

"Walk."

"Maybe y-"

"I need fresh air," he didn't want to hear her reasons about why maybe he shouldn't go out in his current mood.

Gwen tried to think if she'd left any pants here that she could pull on, but Wade left too abruptly. The door's slam reverberated momentarily and then all was still and silent.

By the time she decided she didn't have pants here but could discretely fetch one of her backpacks nearby, she'd also realized she should just leave him alone.

So she dropped onto the couch again with only the cork boards of horrible information for company. She felt mocked by them so she got right back up and shuffled out to the small balcony to curl up in the patio hair there. It was cool but Wade's sweater was warm and she tugged it down further to cover her knees. That might stretch it out, but he'd ruined a shoe and she didn't see why she couldn't have this shirt as compensation.

Tears strung her eyes once she stopped distracting herself. She couldn't lie to herself completely and insist Wade hadn't alarmed her with the way he'd gotten angry. He ranted and raved about all of this before, of course, but it was different that he was angry at her rather than just around her. She had pressed when he told her not to, but she'd believed - and, frankly, still did - that her idea had more merit than he was admitting.

Almost more than his delivery, it was what he'd said. That part of him didn't believe she was on his side -not really. She tried to tell herself it was natural, that of course he was cautious and paranoid on this front. Another part of her felt guilty that she'd obviously not been dutiful enough in proving he could rely on her.

'Maybe if I strung you up...'

It wasn't fair the way he'd thrown those things he didn't want to talk about in her face, but Christ...

After declaring all of that "off the table" he'd surely said more than he wanted to, but now it was too late. He couldn't unsay it, and she sure as hell couldn't un-hear it. She knew it had been awful, but when whatever had happened was undefined it had just been a looming darkness in her mind's eye. Now she had a specific context for his pain, and those visuals weren't going to go away any time soon.

Not that they would probably ever address it. At least not directly. Because he'd never planned on telling her anything - either for her sake or his; maybe both. He'd never even come close to that kind of detail...

Wade hadn't wanted her to know and, if nothing else, he was going to regret bringing a spotlight to his pain.

Gwen swiped tears from her cheeks and tried to pull herself together. Wade would feel guilty if he came back to a crying mess. Or he'd think it was some form of pity, and he absolutely didn't think he deserved that - sympathy made him uncomfortable.

She couldn't help that she was sad for him and scared for him. Okay, and a bit frustrated with him, too.

She did feel like utilizing Avenger's Tower was an obvious next step now that their digging had reached a dead end. Wade was right; he'd needed more than Weasel. Now he needed more than her, too. There was no getting around the fact that their boots-on-the-ground strategy needed a boost.

'Every last one of them...'

Yeah ...she could see the Avengers drawing a line at that. Or at least most of them would.

He had a point.

But so did she.

'They'll fuck it up!'

She'd made promises. Promises she intended to keep. She wiped away more tears where they were too cold on her face, and then she headed in.

For a place that was rarely ever quiet, the apartment seemed overly so now.

Gwen wanted very much to put all of the boards and papers away, to stash them in the spare room and pretend they didn't exist. But she couldn't. This was important. She couldn't just hide it away - it was everything to Wade.

After swiping a couple new tears away, she started straightening all of the papers up. Nothing got removed, but she righted everything that had been riffled, bent, or pushed askew on its tack. Once it was all a little more orderly, she continued to stare at it until it made her head hurt.

She cleared a path to the TV, then, and lounged on the couch to flip channels. Maybe Wade was hoping that she would take herself home if he was gone long enough, but she could and would wait him out. It was the weekend so she didn't have work, and he had plenty of food and drink in the place to facilitate a sit-in.

It was night when Wade trudged back to his apartment. He had walked a long time in the cold air of the late Fall. He didn't mind it; he loved the cold. Winter, in particular, meant everyone was wearing layers, so he rarely got a second glance.

He'd wound up at Sister Margaret's ordering drinks from Weasel because, even though his liver healed itself too fast for him to get drunk, the act of drinking itself was familiar and comforting. Weasel had tried to make conversation several times but all efforts were rebuffed so he eventually wandered away.

In other words, he was a goddamn ray of sunshine.

Which was why he froze when he walked into his apartment and Gwen was still there sleeping on his couch. 'Planet Earth' was playing on the TV, and he couldn't help but grin at the fact that his little nerd had fallen asleep to something educational. Apparently she had only done so after righting all the research on his hoarder-like tack boards.

She shouldn't even be there.

**To hell she shouldn't!**

It wasn't a thought he often had. She was always welcome there in his book, but he'd fucked up this time. He'd shouted at her and he had said things he never wanted to say to her.

She'd just poked and prodded and poked and prodded.

**Nope! Not her fault**.

Well, maybe a little...

**Watch it.**

He clicked off the TV and then stepped over to the couch. He'd no more than bent over her and her eyes snapped open.

"Hey..."

She made to sit up, but he scooped her up before she finished.

"Hey Blondie," he returned quietly.

"Time's it..."

"Oh, pretty late," he admitted and deposited her in bed once he'd made it down the hall.

"Are you leaving again?" she pushed herself up onto an elbow when he didn't join.

"Shower."

She seemed to accept that because she laid back down, and he did indeed get in the shower to scrub down. It helped clear his head a little more, like he was starting fresh. Afterward, the sight of Gwen sprawled in his bed and wearing his clothes still wasn't enough to entice him into bed.

So he spent the rest of the early morning hours sitting on the couch staring at the last year's worth of work.

They'd come so far and tracked down so many people, and still so much didn't make any sense. He'd had himself convinced the whole thing was governmental ...but now that didn't seem so certain. He was banking on private benefactors, now, and that made it hard to know where to start. Gwen still thought it might be governmental now that there was evidence the whole thing went international, but that didn't exactly narrow it down either.

Killibrew.

**Fuck**.

All mention of Dr. Killibrew made him sound like a man, but that didn't mean Wade hadn't spent hours scribbling out possible anagrams just in case one jumped out. Just to be sure.

Maybe Gwen was right...

**No!**

He should trust her to try.

**Too dangerous**.

If Stark or one of his crew caught a whiff and got in the way...

**Take 'em out!**

Or...or would it be worth it? Did it need to be him? He wanted them all dead, but was it the end of the world if that didn't happen as long as someone put a stop to them? **Hmmm...**

"You're still up... "

His fists were clenched painfully tight when Gwen's voice interrupted his train of thought.

The sun was starting to rise already.

"You know I don't sleep a lot - I'm not a Sleeping Beauty like you," he quipped.

"What if Sleeping Beauty wants someone to cuddle with?"

...was he going to deny her to keep wallowing like a feeb?

**Hells nah.**

He shoved himself to his feet with some mental effort.

"I see you're not even going to deny the nickname - kind of conceited, I gotta say," he rounded the couch to usher her back down the hall.

"I thought you'd argue if I did..."

"True dat," he nudged her at the bed.

He watched her crawl into bed with mild interest and then dropped down with her and stretched comfortably.

"You know, I came home to you watching a nature documentary like a real nerd..."

Gwen hummed in amusement and attached herself to his side like she thought he'd disappear. Her worry was admittedly well-founded because he still wanted to bail.

"It was one of the ocean episodes - I like fish."

"Huh ...guess it would be too on the nose if you were into bugs. Or birds, since you're always flying around..."

"I like to swim"

"...I didn't know that," he mused and tucked both hands up under his head.

If he wasn't going to sleep, at least he could lay there and think about her wet and undulating in a bikini...

"I'm mysterious, too..."

"Sure you are, Carmen."

"...Carmen San Diego?"

"You got it."

"Hmm..."

She fell quiet, and for some time Wade was sure it was because she was trying to lull him into a false sense of security. Surely she would want to trap him, unawares, into a conversation about that afternoon. However, the minutes ticked by and she hadn't made a move or a peep.

She really had just wanted him to join her so she could get back to sleep.

**See, no duplicity!**

Of course he could trust her. He knew that. He really did. It wasn't fair to expect her to let him down; he couldn't just have that hanging over her head all the time like he was waiting for her to make a single mistake.

Even if part of him was.

Part of him expected everyone to let him down because he didn't deserve help. He didn't deserve loyalty or friendship because he was too much of a fucking mess.

**You self-pitying clown**.

True. He was a morose cockwaffle now that he'd sunk deep into his dark thoughts and worries. He should've tried to pull himself out of it by thinking of happier shit. Instead he thought of Cunningham and Francis and Vanessa - the sour shit - because he hated himself more than a little.

"...you're still awake?"

He'd hardly even realized how much time passed, but the room was awash in morning light when Gwen stirred at his side.

Why hadn't he kicked her out?

"Hey," a poke at his side drew his attention to her. "Did you get any sleep?"

Her blue eyes were wide, if still a little sleep-clouded. That must be why he hadn't kicked her out - he liked those eyes.

"Nah," he considered but vetoed lying.

"Sorry," she kissed his side and sat up so she could make her way to the bathroom.

Why the fuck was he letting her apologize to him? Oh, yeah, because he was a chicken-shit and couldn't bring himself to talk to her about how he should be the one apologizing.

**Fuck**.

Fuck was right.

When Gwen reappeared, she studied him from the doorway right up until it was about to make him uneasy. Then she just crawled straight up his body from the foot of the bed and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"Gwen," he picked his head up off of his folded hands because he knew he ought to say something.

Anything.

Nothing came out right away, so she placed a finger on his lips and gently pushed him back onto the pillow. He got one more kiss and then she trailed her lips to his chin to kiss along his jaw, then mouthed at his pulse so she could lick and kiss her way down his neck. She chose to completely ignore that he rolled his neck to try to shake her off. No matter how often he liked to sit back and enjoy her body or lay her down and worship whichever part of her struck his fancy, he did not like to afford her the same chance to love on his body.

Because of course he didn't.

She made it to his chest to suck her lips around his married right nipple before she took pity on how tightly he was wound. With a sigh, she sat back on her legs to straddle his thigh while he stared somewhere around her shoulder.

"Turn over..."

"I'm f-"

"Come on; just roll over," she whispered and tickled his side lightly.

He gave a small grunt as if it were a chore but ultimately did as she bid and settled onto his front so he could cradle a pillow to his face.

Now he didn't have to see her lavish attention onto him. Slowly, she traced a finger straight down his spine, enjoying his shudder. Then her light touch gave way to a proper massage. It wasn't easy given how tense he was, but she wasn't in a rush and had the time to knead every inch of muscle. He gave grunts and groans when she managed to hit good spots, and the mild relief seemed to outweigh the fact that she was taking her sweet time touching on his skin. He didn't even protest her leaning in to kiss his spine from time to time...

"Mmmm," he groaned. "Where'd you learn how to use your hands?" he finally asked lazily when she returned to rubbing firm circles into his trapezius muscles, up his neck just a fraction.

"Well, you see ...I had to pay my way through college so I got a job at a dirty massage parlor..."

He snorted into his arm.

"Super hot ...that mean I get a happy ending?"

"Well everyone does" - another snort in response. "You want one?"

He was quiet a moment and then slowly rolled himself over. Gwen rose up a bit on her knees to let him do so, then she settled down on his waist again.

"I don't really deserve one," he gave an answer that was honest to how he was feeling even though it made her grimace. "I know ...I'm a morose piece of shit today."

"You're not," she hunkered over to kiss his sternum.

When she pulled back, Wade chased after her because whatever she was feeling ...he wanted to feel it, too. He sat up to kiss her, looping his arms low around her waist, and groaned when she hugged his neck and pressed against him.

It was slow and hot and wet, and he just wanted to crawl inside her and hide, except that didn't make any sense. So he sat there surrounded by blankets kissing and groping at her.

He was quiet for a while, more so than usual Gwen thought but didn't really mind. Even when she detached so they could both ditch their underwear, she just moved back into his lap without lewd invitations or graphic enticements.

"God, I'm crazy about you, Blondie," he finally spoke into her mouth. "Aw, hell, I'm just crazy...do it, c'mon..."

He had both hands buried in her hair, fisted on either side of her head, as she sunk down onto him. Her breath hitched at the stretch but then she moaned, and he inhaled it greedily.

"Do you think we can do this all day?" Wade continued to help rock the hips he held bracketed in his large hands. "This ...right...here..."

"Mmmhmm..."

Wade nuzzled her neck and then bit at her collarbone before smothering his face there above her breast.

"Why're you so good to me, huh?"

Gwen tried to press him back from her, but he swooped in to suck onto her neck so she couldn't do it.

"So good," he managed around a mouthful of her ear.

"Mmmm," she pushed on his shoulder again.

**Aw, cut it out, baby girl...**

Wade moved his legs around and leaned forward to drop Gwen onto the mattress.

"Turn over.."

"I'm ..."

"Go on; roll over"

Even thrumming with lust, Gwen recognized her own words being used against her, now, so she did roll over. She thought to get on her hands and knees, but Wade kept a hand on her back to keep her on the mattress. He gave her a firm but fast massage, then tugged her hips up just a fraction and draped himself over top of her and pressed back down into her.

"Ahh..."

"Gonna make sure you get that happy ending, too," he promised, hitching one of her legs up further on the bed.

Gwen hissed and bit at her lip. She'd wanted to ride him and make sure he was relaxed, but of course he'd taken over on her. It was still good.

"So good..." she quoted him back at him this time, voice little more than a breath.

"Too good," he breathed into her neck. "I'm no good; I'm not ...I don't wanna talk to you that way ...I don't want you to be scared..."

"I'm not," Gwen gasped.

Of course he could have this conversation now - she wasn't surprised. It was easier to hide these personal, intimate things under something carnal. That way he could still pretend ... ...so could she.

"I'm not..."

"Never," he grunted, scraping his teeth over her neck.

He tugged her hair to tilt her head so he had more room to latch on, trying to mark her.

"Never..."

As she whispered her agreement, Gwen felt ...something. Something beyond the building orgasm or the teeth claiming her neck. Something light and warm, and ...she blinked against it. Whimpered. It wasn't supposed to be quite like this.

"Wade..."

"I've got you, baby..."

"Wade ...can you..."

"Anything..."

"...harder..."

Wade grunted because he didn't really want to at the moment, but he pushed himself up anyway.

**Promises are promises.**

He pressed on her back so it arched further and her hips shifted for him so he could do what she asked and thrust into her more roughly.

**It's all good. Always good...**

He watched her hands fist into the sheets, tugging as she moaned. Moaned his name. Moaned nothing. Moaned anything.

"Fuuuuuck. Fuck..."

He wasn't feeling particularly articulate, but he was with it enough to recognize one of her gasps catch like it was a sob. He froze.

"Wh-"

"You good?" he was panting but focused enough.

"So good."

Her answer was quick and she sounded wrecked. She was close.

**Good.**

He wasted no time in resuming, then. Feeling all of her. Taking in her neck no one but him could touch, her deceptively delicate looking spine, those strong limbs that could kick his ass but also stroked him tenderly, and **fuck**.

Gwen.

Gwen hastily wiped at her over-wet eyes with unsteady hands when she relaxed again against the bed, now laying on her side with Wade at her back. Pleasure still hung like a haze over her, but she wanted to hide the evidence of any tears.

Wade probably wouldn't like it if he saw, thinking she was upset or hurt. She wasn't; she just felt ...good. It had been long, emotional day for each of them and this had been a release. It meant something, but he didn't have to worry about it. It was good.

Maybe too good.

"I'm sorry," he finally stated outright after several minutes of relaxing and recovering.

"...me too."

She felt his hands play through her hair, something between a tickle and a tug, and it felt nice. It made her smile.

"...I'm hungry."

Gwen laughed aloud.

"...me too..."

"I'm not cooking," they both said at the same time.

"But I want pancakes," Gwen insisted - he always said his were superior to all others.

"No you don't ... ... I do make the best, though ..." he couldn't help himself. "Damn it, woman, you've done it."

He gave her ass a light smack and rolled out of bed. Gwen lingered a while, relieved they'd swum from deep, dangerous waters up to the surface. One might complain about whiplash of emotions, but she felt like this was evidence they'd be alright.

"Damn it - no coffee filters!" a shout came from the kitchen.

"Use a paper towel!"

"No paper towel either!"

"Napkin?"

"...tea is fine! Basically the same..."

"No it's not!" Gwen sat straight up because he absolutely didn't accept tea as a substitute either.

"Don't worry about it..."

Digital Underground began playing before she had the chance to shout back a counter-argument, so she threw the sheets off and scurried to the bathroom. She was going to need the coffee so he better be joking ...otherwise she'd have to go find those pants.

When she did get to the kitchen, she could smell the coffee already percolating and Wade was bopping to The Humpty Dance while he mixed up some batter.

"Liar..."

"I'm still gettin' in the girls' pants and I even got my own dance" he carried on with his singing and ignored her.

Why wasn't he more annoying?

"You're the worst..."


	7. Super Cool Super Club

**Super Cool Super Club**

Waking up at Wade's was becoming a little too common, and these days if Gwen wasn't at his place then he was probably stopping around hers. Granted he didn't always stay the night due to not sleeping as much as her, but he popped in and out. Hell, she wasn't even trying to reprimand him anymore for showing up when she wasn't home.

Gwen sort of wanted to be annoyed about this. He was still dangerous -she was perfectly aware that Tony wasn't making that stuff up. His morals still titled left of center for her tastes most days. He was larger than life and unpredictable. Somehow, at some point, these things that used to keep her hesitate became ...exciting.

And she wasn't totally sure how she felt about it - Tony would call her young and dumb - but she'd given up on fighting it. For now, anyway.

"Wade, you home?" Gwen called down the hall before she rolled out of bed and stretched.

Despite being one of the most limber people she knew, her joints popped and she sighed in satisfaction. She was content from a good night's sleep and, sure, as Wade would insist: a good ole fashion fucking. He had lately taken to insisting that he was doing his civic duty to the city by making sure Spider-woman was tuckered out enough for a good night's sleep so she was ready for patrol the next day.

"Living room!"

Maybe he'd found something good on TV Land and she could spend the morning drinking coffee and pretending she didn't have any work she had to do for a story.

She pulled on some sweats and yesterday's sports bra and padded down the hall towards the smell of coffee. From the kitchen, she saw that the TV was indeed on and playing the 1,000th season of 'Real World' with the volume on low. Wade wasn't even watching, though. He was seated at a card table he'd unfolded and guns were splayed out before him.

"What's up my bodacious, blonde babycakes?" he greeted her, not looking up from reassembling a rifle.

"Bodacious, huh?" she grabbed one of the mugs sitting on the counter that appeared to be waiting for her.

First she inspected its cleanliness. Then she actually poured coffee into it.

"Sure," he cooed. "You're strong like steel, but you got some sooooooft curves..." he graded but still wasn't lifting his masked eyes from his work.

Gwen grinned and shuffled out of the kitchen to lean against the back of the couch and watch Wade, who was now dutifully cleaning a handgun. She wasn't sure why he had one of his masks on unless it just felt right to him given that he was technically conducting some work-related business. That or he wanted to hide away today. Either one was probably par for the course, so she decided not to touch it right now. Instead, she just watched him work meticulously and methodically. There weren't a lot of things he settled down for, but the routine of caring for his weapons always brought on a military-like calm. She could admire that.

"Something I can help you with there, Angel Face?"

Definitely trying to hide today if he was suspicious of her watchful eye so quickly.

"You're full of it this morning..."

"I've been up for hours; it's practically my afternoon," he nudged aside his solvent to grab a small rod while he continued to work. "And you **could **give me cutsie names back, but noooo."

"Last time I tried to call you an Adonis you were annoyed."

She wasn't going to feel bad for not matching him silly name for silly name. He didn't take appearance-based-compliments well, so she tried to use them quickly and at strategic times so she wouldn't have to hear a self-deprecating monologue in return.

"True. True. Not everything lands well; guess you'll have to try harder," he turned it deftly back on her, anyway. "So what's with the ogling ...bad news coming?" he did stop his work then to take a proper look at her.

"No," her light eyes rolled high. "It's just ...this whole thing is kind of hot," she waved an index finger at his carefully arranged table.

It was some mix of the power of the guns and the delicate care he spared to take care of them before heading out to wield them with abandon. She shouldn't even approve of this many weapons in one place, but...

"Ooooo," he wiggled momentarily in his seat. "Does Spidey finally want an arsenal of her own?"

He sounded much too excited about that.

"Definitely not."

"Shoot now, ask questions later" probably wasn't a good motto for a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman to adopt. Natasha might also approve, however.

"Alright," he spread his gloved hands wide with a sigh. "Just keep perving on me, then..."

Gwen was happy to, especially seeing as her only other option at the moment was MTV. She'd much rather watch him work with his hands...

But it seemed he couldn't quite stand it.

"Have you ever even shot a gun?" he piped up, needlessly straightening a rag.

"Course I have"

His eyes popped curiously, but when he repeated her it was mockingly.

"Of course I have ...like I'm supposed to guess that when you run around the city without weapons...'sept these guns," he threw up a quick flex and then waved her off.

"My dad was a cop, Wade; I grew up around guns," she reminded him with a wry grin of her own, though she was amused.

He stopped fiddling around and kept his head up to pay proper attention, which seemed respectful.

"He took MJ and me a few times, said we should know what we were doing. I guess I thought it was cool, but I wasn't super into it..."

"Nerd."

He would have killed for an old man who'd thought to teach him anything, let alone the sweetest shit.

"Guilty," she laughed.

"Do...you want to go shooting?" his question was careful and only came after a few moments of her eyeing his collection a little longer.

She blushed a little when she met his eye.

"Honestly? ...kind of. I actually think that would be fun with you..."

"This is a wet dream come true," he held a hand over his heart as if faint.

"But," she inserted before he started actually making plans, "probably a no go. Part of the reason I don't like guns is they're so loud," she pointed at her ears.

"Fuck your sensitive ears," he slumped in his seat.

**Now how is that fantasy getting filled?**

"Yeah, I'll just have to get my gratuitous destruction elsewhere..."

"Arcade?" he offered after a beat.

"What?" she laughed, though she remembered going to an old arcade with him several years ago.

"We'll play every shooter game they have. If that's the closest I can get to see you pulling a trigger, it'll have to do for the spank bank."

"A lovely way of putting it..."

"You're welcome," he stood from the table and kicked his chair in.

"Wh-now?!"

"Why not? This can wait; my main babies are already taken care of..."

So much for calm and settled.

"Can I shower first?"

"It's a dumpy arcade; who are you showing off for?"

Regardless, she fended him off so she could swing (literally) home to eat, clean up a bit, and change her clothes so she at least felt better. He'd had a fair point, though - this wasn't a fancy date.

Although, technically...

"The sight of our first date," Wade announced grandly when they entered that same old arcade.

Back before Weapon X and Francis and all of their shit. A bit before Vanessa. Gwen's dad had even still been alive, then, and she hadn't embraced her powers in an altruistic way, yet. So it was fair to say that felt like a whole lifetime ago.

"Super classy..."

"Hey, you put out now, so I obviously did something right!"

She tried to punch his shoulder through his baggy sweatshirt, but he caught her wrist to keep ushering her along.

"Do you still come here a lot?"

"Now and then ...seems a little creepier the older I get..."

But he came often enough to know the layout and dragged her straight to a hunting game.

"We start with Bambi," he dramatically shoved some quarters in. "Then we graduate to zombies."

"That's adorable of you..."

This wasn't an equal comparison to their conversation; she was well aware of that. These guns weren't heavy or powerful or (to hell with it) sexy in any way, but it was still fun. They were out and about not worrying about anything in particular, and it was nice. Wade seemed more chipper even though he had stubbornly brought one of his thin masks to wear under his hood, but no one was paying them any real attention so it wasn't strange.

It was all incredibly normal.

"Final exam time," he gave her ass a soft swat after he'd led her to one of the zombie games and offered pointers and critiques about her stance and hold like she was squaring up for a true shooting competition.

He slid more quarters in and grabbed up the other gun for competition, to which Gwen rolled her eyes. He was a helpful teacher, but not one who would let her win just to build confidence.

Indeed, he didn't, but he was a surprisingly good sport and didn't rub his victory in ...too much.

"Whaddya say ...loser buys winner drinks at Sister Margaret's?" Wade draped a heavy arm around her shoulders when they'd spent all of the quarters they'd brought.

Gwen perked right up; it had been a while since they'd been to see and harass Weasel. Or, at least, it had been a while since she had. She was sure Wade was in and out of that place more than he bothered to mention.

Weasel was much less enthusiastic about the visit than they were, for they heckled him in memory of the good ole days.

"I don't see what was so good about them. We were all dumber and poorer..."

"I was hotter," Wade pointed out.

"I was more youthful."

"And I still hated you both," Weasel slid them drinks and then stomped away.

"It really is like the glory days," Wade sighed and rolled up his mask so he could work on his beer.

"Not without blow job shots," Gwen waggled her eyebrows.

"Nah; Weasel refuses to make them anymore. Too much trouble."

"Damn ..."

They chattered away at the bar, Weasel sometimes dropping by. A couple other people Gwen used to rub elbows with there also stopped to make certain she was sure she wanted to continue associating with Wade.

"Yes, Bear; we're fine," Wade snapped before Gwen did. "Bye."

"Don't gotta be such a dick, Wade..."

"Actually, Dirty Santa, I do; it's part of my contract."

"Hey, hey, hey," Gwen broke up the bickering children and grasped Wade's chin to turn him towards one of the TVs behind the bar. "Look..."

The news was showing some grainy footage of a riot . Not everything was clear, but it was easy to make out The Avengers.

"Iron Dildo and his Boy Scout are having fun, huh..."

But all of the fighting was very strange. The dim lighting meant that there weren't a ton of details, but they could see fire, glowing orbs, crackles of what looked like electricity - was Thor back in town?

"You drunk, Blondie?"

"Nah," she shrugged.

"Wanna go play?"

At her nod, he jumped up from his seat.

"Weaz, put it on her tab," he shouted down the bar. "I gotta get her home; Deadpool needs to play."

"Yeah, sure..."

Weasel sounded entirely uninterested and didn't question the explanation while they scurried out of the bar.

"You got something stashed nearby?"

"Yeah," she considered the spare suits and changes of clothes she had carefully hidden on rooftops nearby.

"Alright. I'll tell Weasel I put you in a cab, and I'll go grab my shit I keep in the back of the bar..."

"Meet you back here," Gwen agreed and jumped to latch herself on a wall of the alley, then leap to the opposite wall and scurry up it.

She knew she should probably just go meet the Avengers alone or just not go-they hadn't called for backup, after all. Bringing Wade along would cause an argument for sure, as well as a possible PR issue. Still. He was useful, and if he was volunteering to go help out she didn't want to discourage it.

After she found her supplies a few blocks away, Gwen returned to the alley and scooped up Wade to jaunty off towards the bay. Upon arriving, it turned out that things had already died down. There was a mess left behind - wasn't there always one? - but the ruckus and melee had quieted. War Machine was just taking off to haul a couple captives in.

"Aw, where's the party? Did we miss it?" Deadpool shouted when Gwen landed on a postbox and he was able to jump to the sidewalk. Not fair; I should've kept drinking!"

"Pool Boy. Bug Woman," Tony's mask retracted so he would glower at the pair.

"You know I'm older than her, right?"

Tony glared at him.

"Point is," he swung around to the woman, completely ready to change the point. "If you want to tag along more, we should revisit you moving into the Tower so you can at least be on time.

"Pass."

"Why? It's much better than your hippy lo-"

"What exactly happened here?" Gwen cut him off because she'd long since decided that she wanted to live as normal a life as possible.

Not 100% normal, obviously, but one that fit what she knew. One she could explain to her friends. She didn't want high-profile anything if she could help it.

"Started out as a rally," Steve explained.

"You heard of the Church of Humanity?" Tony checked as he had his suit scan the area for anything dangerous left behind amongst the trash and debris.

"I know of the Friends of Humanity. They're a mutant hate group..."

"JARVIS says they're an offshoot," the millionaire confirmed. "Kind of a misleading name, don't you think?"

"Some mutants decided to hold a counter-rally to their hate rhetoric ...but couldn't keep it peaceful," Steve explained. "There were some rumors flying around ahead of time, so JARVIS had things monitored."

"Safer than having NYPD roped up in this," Sam reasoned as he came to land near them - he'd been listening in via his comm unit.

"Your flame-throwing friend," Gwen glanced towards the skyline where Rhodey had already disappeared towing th fugitives aling in his War Machine armor. "I recognize him. He's a member of the Mutant Brotherhood."

"Great."

"Yeah, we've heard of them; they've been getting more active..." Steve nodded along.

"Where were your X-Men pals?" Tony scowled at Gwen. "They outta town? This is the kind of thing we can usually leave to them..."

"They try to avoid the Friends of Humanity when they can," Gwen shook her head. "The Brotherhood have a different agenda, but The X-Men figure there's no winning with that group. Any show of power where they're involved just proves all the propaganda these hate groups like to spout about dangerous mutants."

"That's awfully passive," Steve mused.

"Oh, I'm sure they're watching," Deadpool kicked over some picket signs.

"Like you? So they can drop in too late to be any good?" Tony sneered.

"Leave it," Steve looked tired and a little unamused. "Maybe we should get in touch with them ...you're right; some of these same mutants have been on the move a lot lately..."

"Hold on," Gwen had been watching Wade muck around in the leftover debris and darted forward.

She ruffled through some of the forgotten signs and shitty slogans strewn about.

"Thinking of going political, Spidey?" Wade watched.

"This..." she pulled out a sign covered in a hand with an "M" spray painted over it. "I know this..."

She started kicking around signs to look for the mark on anything else.

"What is it?" Sam prodded.

"Shut it, Maltese - it's the DaVinci Code," Wade mock-whispered. "This takes time!"

"Maltese?" that got Gwen's attention.

"Maltese Falcon; I get it," Sam conceded. "Kindda lame, though, dude."

"Oh, alright," Wade sung in his suit. "Next time it's a Chicken Run reference."

"Ugh..."

"At least the last one was Bogart," Tony deigned to piggyback off of Deadpool's mockery. "Now what's the deal? Why are you being a spaz?"

Gwen had already snatched up a bandana the symbol was embroidered on, too. She rubbed her fingers over the thread and then held it up, as if they hadn't already seen.

"Mutant fight club."

"Shut. Up!" Wade screeched. "That's sweet! It's the coolest thing you've ever heard, right?" he spun in a slow circle to make sure the others were in agreement.

"...I really want to disagree, but..." Tony sounded conflicted.

"Let me guess; it's super ominous, though."

Nothing really phased Sam these days, but he also wasn't super optimistic about a name like that. He'd learned to tamper optimism when it came to his current line of work.

"Not always ominous, really. I mena, sometimes, but it was sort of started as just an in-group hobby. I used to fight there when I needed cash..."

Wade whipped around then, head cocked.

"You've been holding out on me?"

"I said used to. Back before..." she waved her hand at her suit.

"Ya! I knew you back before-" he waved his hands at her, too, but allowed his hands to pretend they were tracing overly-generous curves.

"Yeah, well I didn't broadcast my money woes around Sister Margaret's" - she ignored his responding pout. "Anyway, it's kind of an underground fighting ring. I'd compare it to UFC except, you know ...all powers allowed."

"That would make so much money if it went mainstream..." Tony's eyes were a little wide even though he knew he ought to be more disapproving or maybe disgusted.

"Gotta be Twilight Zone if Bumblebee and I are agreeing..."

"That's kind of opposite of the whole point: hiding and embracing being outcasts," Gwen rolled her eyes behind her mask. "It's all mutant all the time ...a subversive little club for betting and kind of a meet-up place for anything mutants want to keep under wraps. Or meta-humans, I guess," she pointed to herself. "They don't ask a ton of questions as long as you have something special going on..."

"So they must've been rallying support for this counter-protest at one of these Karate clubs," Tony sighed because even if this sounded super awesome he'd really rather people just learn to chill.

"Cobra Kai, ammi right?" Wade reached for a high-five off of Iron Man.

He was ignored.

"I'd get you, but you called me a Chicken, so..." Sam wasn't so sorry.

Unperturbed, Deadpool simply high-fived himself.

"So we raid one of these fights?" Steve proposed.

"Sounds arduous...SHIELD might go for it, though," Tony was a little more well thought-out. "Probably a lot of wanted mutants hanging in a place like that."

"Whoa, whoa ...guys," Gwen waved an arm to regain their complete attention. "No way. A lot of people there are just looking for a way to get by. I mean ...I'm not saying there isn't criminal activity there, and it's a rough crowd, but what you're talking about is dangerous."

Everyone shared shifty looks.

"Things are already getting dangerous," Steve was the first to plow ahead. "Whatever it is they want, they're getting bolder. This is a park; the fighting spilled-out here. People really could have gotten hurt..."

Gwen chewed on her lip to think even though she knew the others couldn't see it. Maybe she shouldn't have even said anything at all.

The fights were seedy, no doubt about that, but she hadn't been the only one there desperate to just earn her winnings and get out. Maybe it wasn't right by everyday standards. After all, it certainly wasn't somewhere she'd revisited just for grins and giggles, and she didn't usually talk about it. However, the place did serve a purpose; it gave some people who couldn't get hired at a descent job a way to earn money.

"Just...cool it," she raised a white-gloved hand. "I'll go check it out."

"I don't know about that..."

Steve was shaking his perfect blonde head, and Gwen sort of wanted to tell him to shove it. Maybe Deadpool was rubbing off on her because she was feeling a little salty that he got a say in this. It wasn't his fault, but Steve had been lauded for his powers rather than subjugated. She hadn't experienced exile for hers either since she could hide in plain sight, she knew that, but she at least had met and come to understand those who weren't so lucky.

"I'm going to do it anyway."

"Wooooweeee, yeah you did," Wade was bobbing his head. "We're going to fight club!" he went to her for a high-five that time.

But Gwen hesitated.

"...I dunno..."

"What! C'mon, all these douche nozzles are too high profile," he pointed at the other three men in turn, "or have no powers without their armor and tricks. Me," he pointed both index fingers at himself. "Hi. I'm the obvious choice of sidekick. I'll follow your lead - it'll be totally cool."

"...we'll talk about it."

He sputtered.

"Did you have someone else in mind?"

"...well, I know someone in Hell's Kitchen who's familiar with the scene..."

"The Punisher?" Sam straightened right the hell up. "I know that guys a little off the rails, but, damn, I do want to meet him..."

A fellow vet. Of course.

"No...I only know him by reputation. Plus he'd probably make a mess of the place..."

"Are you running with Daredevil, too?" Tony threw up his armored hands. "I need to keep closer tabs on you..."

"Him I have met," Gwen happily admitted, "but no. Cool girl, she runs a PI business now. Super strong; can't bleed..."

"Jones!?" Wade was screeching again. "Jones is a PI now? I thought she died..."

"You stay in touch with the wrong people. Buck. Weasel. All super boring," Gwen laughed at his expense.

"Fuckin' A right..." Wade punched himself in the head. "God dammit."

"Can you keep doing that until your knock yourself out?" Tony hoped aloud. "Or is that basically just a one time thing?"

"Oh, I got somethin' for ya..."

Wade unsheathed one of his ballistic knives, spun it, and stabbed himself in the temple before anyone could even react to a weapon bring drawn.

"Wade!" Gwen jumped despite everything she knew.

"Aw hell," Sam was easily as disgusted but a little more refined.

Tony and Steve had more silent reactions but still looked as displeased. Wade, meanwhile, garbled something intelligible and dropped heavily to his knees. He raised a hand, likely to grab for the blade, but didn't actually lift it more than a foot or so since some crucial part of his brain was apparently now on the fritz.

Gwen reached for it but hesitated, more than a little alarmed even though she wanted to help. While she was schooling herself to just do it already, Steve strode forward. He braced Wade's head with one hand while he yanked the knife clear with the other.

"Really, Wilson?"

"What, would you rather I use a Ka-Bar? You were all getting super annoying..."

He stumbled once but then shoved himself to standing.

"Annoying?" Gwen punched his arm.

"Ow, why are you picking on the sick and feeble?" he was already laughing.

"Definitely sick," Steve agreed and gave the knife a little flick so he could toss it and catch it by the blade to hand back to the other man.

"Jesus ...so where were we?"

"I'm going to snoop around the fight scene and see what's what; I'll let you guys know," Gwen quickly summarized.

"Now, look..." Tony huffed.

"No, we definitely decided," Gwen cut off whatever other arguments the genius was formulating. "C'mon," she jerked her thumb at Wade. "But I should make you walk."

Unperturbed, Wade was happy to follow her.

"Okay, we'll just twiddle our thumbs in the meantime, then? ...okay. Great," Tony shouted after them.

"Stay in touch," Steve added.

"I'll see you soon," Gwen promised, and she and Wade drew away together to get closer to some buildings so she could take them home.

Which she did.

Silently.

"I can't believe you," she shoved him into his own living room through the balcony door.

"What?" he was laughing. "I had fun!"

"Stabbing yourself?"

"Aw, come on. Every now and then you have to remind people you're stronger than them and can't die. Besides, I'm already fine; you know me, Gwen," he headed for the fridge. "...Gwen?"

She wasn't bailing, but she wasn't joining him either. She just removed her mask and lingered by the door.

"...just don't do it again."

"What?"

"Stab yourself in the head in front of me! I know you're healed; I know you've been through worse," - hell she'd seen worse happen to him. "You just ...did it so easy, like some party trick. But it scared me..."

"C'mon," he snorted. "It kind of is a party trick at this point."

"Are you even listening?"

She looked sad and he didn't want her to.

"I am, but ...how is it any different than you leaping of roofs with a smile?"

"Because I don't get hurt," she told him like it was obvious.

He supposed it was if you weren't him.

"Pain is sort of a non-issue for me these days..."

She knew that. She'd heard the stories of him dislocating his shoulders on purpose to get out of a bind or falling great distances if needed because his legs would heal right up, and Negasonic Teenage Warhead had told her numerous times about him cutting his own hand off just to ditch her and Colossus. The list truly went on.

It was just that this had been so pointless, and still he hadn't hesitated. It made her think of the blood behind the nearby poster of dogs playing poker, which he had recently crafted into dinosaurs playing poker - recently, after she'd let him play Words with Friends against Sam for a while on her phone, it had been Sam and a bunch of exotic birds playing poker.

She didn't give herself away by looking at the poster, though. She shouldn't even be worried about it; she should be able to laugh at this like she'd come to be able to regarding his other antics around the Avengers.

But this made her squirm.

"I know that," she finally responded.

"... ...should I still refrain from a repeat?"

"Yes," her sigh sounded relieved. "Please."

"You got it, Spider Babe ... ...although, if someone else stabs me, will you pull the knife out? I was kind of banking on you helping me if I couldn't get it, not Hercules. Now I kindda feel like I owe him," he glanced at the poster over her shoulder.

She fully expected a photo of Steve to be taped onto one of the heads next.

"I promise ... ...not today, though. I'll catch you later..."

"Hooo, wait -what?" Wade abandoned his renewed search of the refrigerator. "I was thinking snacks and then I let you rock my world. We didn't get to burn off any energy at that super cool Super Club meet-up. I'm ready to go."

"I have a lot of work I wanted to get done today," she glanced at her watch. "I need to at least do some of it before patrol."

"Feck ...whoa!" he started-in again when she took another step for the door. "You aren't actually leaving until we hash-out this Fight Club business. All that talk about not taking me was just horse shit, right? An act for your Other Friends?"

"I don't know, Wade," her shoulders slumped lazily.

He just blinked sheepishly at her.

"You don't exactly do great with ...well, thinking I'm in trouble."

Well, okay, that was perfectly true.

**Doesn't matter. Gotta get in on this.**

"Hold up ...are you planning on this being dangerous? Are you expecting trouble?"

**Definitely going even if she forbids it**.

"No. It's just ...not a warm and fuzzy place..."

"Perfect! I'm not a warm and fuzzy person."

**Spidey notwithstanding**.

"Plus, Jessica's been there before..."

"And what the ever-living fuck is up with the new love affair with Jessica Jones?" he was a little annoyed and a little jealous - maybe he needed a super power brat pack, too. "Are you two celebrating Wine Wednesdays behind my back? Cuz I want in on that, homegirl."

Gwen couldn't quite picture the other woman sitting on a patio sipping wine, so she had to chuckle.

"No, I haven't even seen her in quite a while; I just know she'd go and she'd have my back..."

Wade waved his arms around wildly and then jutted his fingers at himself in clear "Me Too!" fashion.

"I meant it; I'll follow your lead," Wade came to mock-attention and threw her a salute.

"...I'll think about it. I have to ask around a bit first anyway."

"Fine. Good enough ...I'm totally writing about this betrayal in my diary, though..."

Gwen paused and made a mental note to poke around and see if Wade actually had a diary hidden somewhere the next time he was in the shower when she stayed over. Not that she would read it. It would just be interesting to know if he really kept one. It would probably be pretty nonsensical rants or jokes anyway ...not that she would read it.

"Night, Wade."

"Yeah, yeah..."

He started digging around his refrigerator with more gusto than strictly necessary, so she took her leave. He could burn off his restless energy on his own, and she had a lot of thinking to do.

...

A few days later, Wade woke from a surprisingly peaceful, if routinely brief, sleep in the wee hours of the morning. He stared blearily a the TV for a bit to figure out what was playing - 'Hard to Kill' ...random, but all right.

**I relate to you there, Stevie.**

By the time he stumbled to the bathroom, pissed, and brushed his stanking teeth, he felt much better and ready for ...French Toast? Pancakes? Stale cereal?

He scratched his stomach absentmindedly as he mentally scrolled through the possibilities. He could just go out, too, and he did always love the idea of not having to clean up after himself. Then again, that required being fully clothed...

**Hmmm...**

He was in the kitchen with a carton of orange juice in hand when he recognized the sound of someone else breathing in the room. Without second-guessing himself, he snatched a paring knife off of the counter and whirled, ready to throw it.

Thank fuck he recognized the chunk of blonde hair resting on the arm of his couch.

"Shit," he wheezed and set the small blade back down while he shoved away the mental image of having impaled Gwen on a kitchen utensil.

Stark would go ballistic.

**Any any rapport with Sammy would be right out the window.**

That guy was cool but probably not that understanding. Then again, maybe Spiders didn't sneak into his house...

Wade stalked over to his couch and looked over the back where, sure enough, Gwen was curled up and dead to the world. Not that she didn't deserve it, but that girl could sleep.

**Jealous**.

Was her hair damp? Did it rain last night?

He glanced at his patio but reached out to poke Gwen's forehead rather than go take a real look outdoors. Her eyes popped open as soon as he'd made the lightest touch, but he rubbed his finger into the spot anyway until she brushed it away with a sleepy "hi..."

"Morning, Sweetie Bear ...whattcha doin'?" he leaned over the back of the couch to gaze down at her.

"I was sleeping," she shifted and reached for a blanket before realizing there wasn't one.

"And may I ask why?"

"Same reason everybody sleeps," she sat up some more but kept her legs pulled to her chest.

Wade sighed, put-upon like he was the one being woken unceremoniously.

"Did you get hit in the head last night and forget the layout of my apartment? Bedrooms that way," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

Gwen just nodded.

"Hit in the head? Yes. Forgot your apartment? No. You were sleeping, and I didn't want to wake you up," she explained, rubbing at her eyes.

"You were ...what?" he blinked, having gotten more of a story than he'd expected. "First of all, fuck it: always wake me up."

"You don't sleep enough..."

"Second of all: who the hell hit you in the dome? You're alright, right?"

Okay, he probably should have asked that first just for courtesy's reasons.

"Mmhmm..."

Her eyes were still hooded, voice groggy.

"Wanna be more convincing?"

She perked up a bit to look round and meet his eye.

"Just from a scuffle breaking up a robbery; I got dinged in the head ...I was a little dizzy is all," she scrubbed at her eyes again.

"Christ...how long were you able to sleep, Gwen?" he was well-ware that it was rich of him to be the one to question someone's else's sleeping, but she needed it more than him.

"Time's it?"

"Five ...thirty. Almost."

"I guess a couple hours ...can I have some of that?" she finally spotted the carton of OJ still in his hand.

He grumbled but handed it over. Gwen gave it a small shake, and upon hearing there wasn't a whole lot left gave him a hopeful look.

"Go on; drink me out of house and home," he waved at her to proceed.

She chugged it. She was probably hungry, too, but seeing as she was still a little groggy she probably wasn't looking to take care of that just yet. Sleep was probably first on the docket.

"...did it rain last night?" he brushed the ends of her damp hair.

"No; I took a shower" -damn he'd really slept through her having the run of the place - "to get the blood out of my hair."

"Wait. What the shit? You were bleeding?" this was enough of a rare event that his hands swiftly descended onto her head and into her hair to examine her scalp.

Helpfully, Gwen tilted her head appropriately and pointed to the space over her ear.

"It should already be healed up..."

Wade raked a hand through her hair feeling very much like a mother chimpanzee with her baby. He didn't so much mind the comparison, though; monkeys were alright in his book even with the poop-slinging thing. Hell, especially for the poop-slinging thing.

"Alright, yeah; looks like it ...little off your game tonight, huh?"

"Leave me alone," a yawn almost broke up her order.

"Yup. C'mon; up we go," he reached over the couch to gather her up and haul her down the hall. "Real stupid not waking me up, Stacy..."

He dropped her onto the bed a little more abruptly than was strictly polite, but Gwen didn't voice a protest and just crawled to the far side to squirrel her way under a blanket.

"It wasn't stupid," she defended herself. "You looked really peaceful..."

Wade visibly twitched. Peaceful was not a word general associated with him, so he wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to say.

**Refute it?** But it sounded nice...

**Laugh at her? **But she looks so cozy and earnest.

**Ignore it? **Perfect.

"Well you have blanket permission to wake me up next time," he pointed a stern finger at her.

**So there's gonna be a next time**?

Probably...

**Better be.**

"M'kay," he wasn't convinced by her agreement. "Gonna join?" she crooked a finger at him.

He was still hungry, but her finger was cute.

**Sappy. As. Hell.**

But he didn't mind, so, even though she was clearly just going to sleep and not reach down his pants, he hooked his fingers around hers and let her give him a gentle tug. He climbed onto the bed on his knees and then shifted to flop straight onto his back. She moved right into his side. Maybe it should've been disconcerting how easily they both let that happen ...but - fuck that- it wasn't. At all.

"G?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Why didn't you just go home if you were only going to crash on the couch?" he dared because she was sleepy so maybe she'd say something good...

He wanted her to say it.

**Say it.**

"I like it here."

**Fuck yeah.**

"I didn't feel good so I wanted to come over, but since you were looking all precious the couch was fine..."

Precious? Pffff.

"Didn't feel good?" he frowned, not remembering her complaining of illness in recent memory. "Look, are you actually concussed? Is that possible?" he leaned back from her.

"Not sick, just ...it was a weird night..."

"Gonna have to elaborate on that, Blondie."

**Early hours are fine for killing hours.**

"Can we later?" she began tracing along the ridges of muscle in his torso. "I promise everything's fine."

He tutted but nodded his acquiescence.

"Besides, we should be talking about how you fell asleep watching 'Titanic'," Gwen smiled, eyes still closed. "It was still playing when I got here..."

"Hope you're not trying to shame me for that. I'm so down with anything Celine Dion is a part of."

"Seriously?" she peeked an eye open.

"Canada, baby!" he thumped a fist on his chest in solidarity.

Gwen huffed a small laugh but just turned her face into his side. He began humming 'My Heart Will Go On,' which she chose to ignore since if she filed a noise complaint he might just get louder. Besides, it was kind of soothing the way the sound purred through his chest.

...

When Gwen woke again, she was still in bed but was now wrapped around Wade's waist and he was wearing soft sweatpants. He was sitting up in bed and the TV was playing. Funny how a soft knock on the window would have woken her immediately but he'd been able to come and go from the bed without waking her. It wasn't exactly surprising; she didn't always notice him get up in the night when he gave up on sleep, and he could peacefully rouse her without a scare. This time he'd clearly even rearranged her without startling her.

That made her feel oddly vulnerable but also ...warm.

She curled the arm he'd draped around his waist a little tighter, and he dropped a hand down to rake through her hair slowly but said nothing. Maybe he suspected she was still asleep. Maybe she did want more sleep...

But then she eyed the slice and a half of pizza plated on the stand next to the bed. Hunger replaced fatigue, so she snatched it up.

"First you trespass, now you steal..."

The pizza was colder than natural in her hand so she knew it must be leftovers he'd chosen not to re-heat. She grinned, for they shared a fondness for cold pizza.

"Sorry," she told him around a mouthful even though it wasn't true. "Mm, now this is pizza..."

Pepperoni, bacon, and peppers. Better than fruit.

"And I'll be a plate for you, too, no problem," he continued when some crumbs fell from her mouth onto his pants.

Gwen kissed the crumbs back up and then pushed herself up to sit properly.

"Better?"

"Well, you could've kept going with your mouth," he could always find a complaint. "But sure."

She was a little sorry to see he was wearing one of his thin masks, but it was rolled up to allow him to eat so she leaned in and gave him a kiss.

"Thanks for letting me sleep."

"Sure."

He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. It felt like one, but Gwen didn't say so.

"Whattcha watching?"

She turned to sit shoulder to shoulder with him and figure out what was playing.

"007 marathon..."

"Nice"

"Eh, I like Connery better..."

They watched quietly for a little while, and when Gwen finished her pilfered slice of pizza Wade offered her the one he'd started eating.

"...is there more?" she glanced at the empty plate.

"Yup"

She let him keep his piece and stood up to hop over him to the floor. She made a pitstop in the bathroom, but when she got to the kitchen she saw Wade already there with an open pizza box divvying up what was left onto two plates.

"You wanna be weird and have pizza with coffee? Or is Coke good?"

"...as long as you don't actually mean cocaine," she clarified because one always should.

He chuckled but pulled a few sodas from the fridge.

"Thanks," she climbed onto one of the stools at the counter where he'd placed the food.

While she cracked open her drink, she watched him contemplate his food and then pull a third plate from the cupboard. He then split up his slices and microwaved half of them. To each their own. She devoured a slice of her own cold pizza.

"So how come last night was weird?"

Of course he had not forgotten that she promised to elaborate. He'd allowed her to fill her stomach a little more, but now he was lounged back against the counter with a plate in hand and eyes trained on her.

"Nothing bad happened," she assured him again. "At least, ya know ...nothing really abnormal," because crime and people hurting people was bad even if it was to be expected. "I just took time to poke around about, ya know, the fights. Called a few people."

"Piss somebody off?"

"Nah ...just ...it was strange. I mean, I get what Steve meant, yeah? It's skeevy, so just break the whole thing up," she glanced at Wade and then back down to pick at a pepperoni in her pizza. "Like, I know I should think that way too..."

She was using more qualifiers and pausesthan natural, so Wade gave her time to puzzle-out what she wanted to say. He didn't interrupt, just munched on his slice of cheesey goodness.

"Look, about you coming with me..."

**Fuck. Gave her too much time**.

"I'm not trying to be a bitch," she went on before he could interject in his own defense. "I ...it's just that when I used to go there..." she bit down hard on her lip and frowned to herself.

"Did you have an even sexier fight costume? Are you embarrassed?" he threw her a reason to get annoyed.

If she grabbed at it, maybe she'd get out of her head.

She did roll her eyes at him.

"No," she slid her food away. "That's just not a time of my life I'm really proud of..."

At least when she looked back at her time picking-up at work Sister Margaret's, she could consider it the start of her crime-fighting career because she tried to be selective about who she would and wouldn't rough up. At least she'd made friends and there had been a protective, if kind of fucked up, mutual understanding around the place.

The fighting always felt grimier and more desperate. The people there weren't all bad, but it had never been relaxed or fun. She'd gone for the money, let out some anger, and then usually scurried her little ass out of there. Gwen had done okay and knew she'd felt some dark pride at times, but she was happy not to have to rely on that quick cash anymore.

"I know," Wade's was closer when she looked up, and he nudged her plate back toward her. "I've picked up on how you feel about a lot of your time between spider bite and Spider-woman."

"Sister Margaret's is different," she blurted, trying to explain.

"Yeah, yeah, it's a magical place," his scarred lips twisted upwards in a smirk. "I'm not gonna lie, Blondie ...I wanna see mutant UFC fighting like nobody's business. Wings, fire, all of it," he supposed there was no point in lying, and she did chuckle with him. "But if you're this anxious about getting back inside this place, then I don't want you to go alone ...or with Jones, because what the fuck does she know?"

She looked thoughtful.

"I'm just gonna stalk your pretty ass there and stake the place out anyway," he confessed his decision.

Gwen snorted.

"Just because I'm anxious doesn't mean I can't do it..."

That was a little sassy, but she did pick her pizza back up .

"Hey, I get it: who runs the world? Girls ...I know Beyonce's lessons," he assured her with 'boop' to her nose. "I just wanna be your back up."

"...alright."

"I can go?"

"I'm afraid I'll regret it, but yeah..."

"Woooo," he set his plate down to beat his chest like Tarzan. "Think they'll let me fight? Can I fight?"

"Please no," she chomped a large bite. "And no Deadpool, either - just Wade. No guns or knives."

"Lotta fuckin' rules for underground boy scouts."

"...I'm going to have to reserve the right to change my mind about this," Gwen frowned and wondered if she should just call Jessica now.

"Nope, you already said it. It's out in the world now, sister, and it's my reality..."

"Sister, huh?"

"Well ...step-sister," was his only amendment. "Oh! I forgot -"

He dropped his plate back onto the counter with a small 'clank' and strode off. Sure that he would return, Gwen wasn't alarmed.

"Here," a moment later he reappeared and threw a shopping bag to her.

"Gifts?" Gwen caught it easily and dug into it. "What's this?" she blinked at the item.

She wasn't an idiot so she knew what they were...

"Best ear protection I could find," he told her around a fresh bite of pizza.

"Wow..." she poked the thick padding of the tactical earmuffs.

"I'll take you to arcades all day, but if you wanna go make your old man proud ...we can take 'em and see if they're strong enough," he offered once he forced down his mouthful of food..

She blinked at them a few more times.

"It's never a straight line with you, is it?"

"Nah ... ...now, eat up, Buttercup. 'Dr. No' is on next," he pointed back down the hall.


End file.
